Interruptions
by Scarabbug
Summary: A disrupted wedding ceremony followed by a quick excursion into the void between the worlds. All in all, just another ordinary day in Avalar, then. Spyro Original Series and A New Beginning crossover.
1. Beginnings

**This story does not include the Spyro game '**_**A Hero's Tail'**_** as canon and therefore does not feature characters or worlds exclusive to that game. I'm going old school here, folks (my god, I consider the original games 'old school'… I must be getting on in my years). **

**The beginning of this is vaguely inspired by an early scene in Sarah Frost's Ace Lightning fanfiction '**_**Chosen Destiny'

* * *

**_

Interruptions.

Chapter One: Beginnings. 

_His world is bigger than it used to be, but he tries to keep the battles simple. There are the dragons and there are the Dark Ones' Servants. There isn't much room for anything else. _

_The white cold beneath his feet is melting, like the skin of a 'Shroom Spore on a hot day. Except that it's white and wet rather than orange or green. He remembers the first time he saw the snow. His first visit to Munitions Forge. He'd never felt anything so cold before. Had barely even _heard_ of ice. _

_He knows it now. It's hard to fight in, even harder to walk on, and yet somehow the monsters keep coming for him, gripping hold of the slippery surface with their paws and charging at him from every direction. He still fights back the best he can, but there are so many of them. _

'_Uh, Spyro, monkey to the right?' _

'_I see it.' _

'_Spyro—'_

'_I _see it,_ Sparx!' _

'_So why aren't you _stopping_ it?!' _

_He's trying to. It's a little difficult to get his powers working these days, even harder with Sparx doing all that _yelling.

_He's still trying to work out whether they're alive – the servants of the Dark Master, that is. Why they're made of, what they _are_… crystals and diamonds and spirit gems given living, breathing form, far uglier than they should be. It's a cruel twist on the ancestor's gifts. _

_Sometimes Spyro thinks it might be better not to wonder._

_They never stop to wonder about him, after all. The only thing of him they see is purple. The purple means everything to them. The purple is the thing which means that if they can kill him, the dark one will reward them a thousand times over. _

_The purple dragon is worth that much. Which is probably the scariest thing about it. _

_He pulls back, snatches his tail away from a set of claws trying to grab him. If he can time a Fury _right_ for once…_

'_Spyro, aaaany time y'like now, buddy.' _

_He's never been good at timing them, not even before the first time he lost his powers and before the battle in Convexity. It tends to explode out of him before he can really think about what he wants to do with it. Ignitus…_

_Well, Ignitus always tells him it will get easier with time, and practise. It's not easier now. He makes a rough count: there are twenty attackers coming for him, all of them on higher ground. They like to attack from overhead, leaping down on you the way Forest Spawns in the swamp do if you stay beneath their trees for too long. _

_There are times when Spyro really misses the swamps. _

_Times like now. _

'_Left, _left_!'_

'_For the last time, Sparx, _I see it_!' _

'_Oh, fine, save the world without my help, why don'tcha?' _

_Spyro ignores him. Turns three times in the snow, gathers his bearing and tries to summon up the vestiges of magical energy he still has left. The gift of the ancestor's courses through his body in far lower quantities than he'd like. It's not enough. Not _nearly_ enough. _

_Another half a dozen apes leap out at him from overhead, he bashes them away without thinking, watches the flesh of the first disintegrating as he smashes into it with a comet dash. Another one manages to bite down on his wing, but Spyro breaks its hold, somehow. The flames still spurting from his wings probably have something to do with it. _

'_Oh man, oh man, this is so not cool. Life is good. Life is _good_. I like _living_, Spyro!' _

'_Sparx will you _calm down?_ We're not going to die!'_

'_Did I _say_ I thought we were going to die? No! _Now_ who's the pessimist? Happy thoughts, _happy thoughts_!' _

'_Sparx, cut it out!' _

_He loves his brother. He really does. Bad sense of humour or no. But sometimes he wonder whether the fights would be _easier_ without him yelling in his ear, or just quieter. _

_What power does he have left? Not enough for a Fire Fury, sure, but… ice, maybe? He's still fairly weak in the power stakes, but surely he can manage a few dozen sparks? Just enough to scare the monsters away; give his brain a chance to catch up with his magic._

_He should've saved enough energy for a fire Fury. He's so much _better_ at this with fire. _

'_Holy he— Spyro!' _

_He kicks another ape away and… okay, Spyro didn't even know he _knew_ how to do that with his back legs. 'Sparx, not now!' _

'_Okay, okay! Just thought you'd like to know 'bout the huge hole in the sky, that's all!'_

'_About the _what_?!' _

_Spyro makes the mistake of looking up. The ape gets a good strike to his chest at the same time as Spyro gets a look at what Sparx so appropriately calls "the huge hole in the sky". The light shining through it is bright and blinding and he can feel the air buzzing in his ears. The apes are screaming in it's brilliance. The snow is melting. _

_A quiet voice in Spyro's ear, one he can't identify, utters a single word: _'Now.'

_Something slashes his chest at the vulnerable point between scales and muscle. It doesn't hurt. The buzzing is too loud for pain to get through and he thinks he can hear Sparx yelling something. Sounds kind of like 'what the freakin' hell is thi—' but Spyro can't make out anything more after that. The air turns bright and cold and violet. _

_No. Not violet. Purple. _

'Not the portal, again_.' _

_This is the last thing he has time to think before the tear in the sky opens and _snatches_ him up.

* * *

_

One of the most surprising things Spyro had just discovered about the people of Scorch was that they knew how to throw a party… Or whatever this was supposed to be.

'My wings hurt.'

'Shh.'

'I'm just _saying_…'

Elora turned a page and closed her eyes, presumably so she could mentally recite what she had just read. How she was able to talk to him at the same time as doing something else was a talent Spyro had never quite been able to figure out. 'Yeah, that's what you _just said_, Spyro. I think we get the picture.'

'Ngh. I mean it, though. It _hurts_. And it looks dumb.'

'We _know_.' Zoë pointed out, dryly. 'Though for the record, I don't think it looks so bad. It might be a little big for you, though.'

'No, the chains are _supposed_ to hang like that.'

'Oh… well, if it hurts so badly then why did you wear it anyway?'

'I already told you, I was guilted into it by Nestor.'

'Well, if Nestor told you to jump into the lava pits…' Elora suggested coolly while turning another page.

'At this exact moment? I probably _would_. I think it'd be a lot _cooler_ there.'

The nudge Elora gave him in the side hurt a little, but not nearly as much as the hard, metal _things_ that were attached to his wing-ribs did. It was just her way of saying '_you're cute, but you couldn't be more irritating if you tried, _stop_ it_'. She wasn't really paying him any attention anyway; she was still going over the large book in her hands and muttering something under her breath.

Spyro sighed and went back to watching the people gradually filing into the hall. There was a weird mixture. He recognized a few of them as Zephyrians (blob-shaped creatures, purple, most of them wearing weird kinds of saucepans on their heads) and Breeze Builders (bird-like, avoiding the Zephyrians at all costs), a few Gem Cutters (mouse-like, short), Handle and Greta (okay, he had no idea what they were) and a good few felines who he assumed must have been related to Hunter. None of them had really come over to say hello yet. Spyro figured they might just have Hunter's old reservations about the behaviour of dragons. He also thought his presence was probably the reason the people from Zephyr and Breeze Harbour hadn't started flinging insults at each other yet. Inviting both of them into the same building probably hadn't been the wisest of moves.

The building was some kind of temple or shrine located in the Scorch desert. Spyro remembered passing it by on his trip to discover a lost Talisman with Handle and Greta (who now happened to be sitting in the third row back, with Greta giggling to her brother, probably about how ridiculous Spyro looked) but he'd never been inside of it. The walls were pure white, the pillars supporting the rooftops must have been at least fifteen feet high, and he had no idea what that red stuff lining the floor was, but it looked _expensive_. Like fine, dragon-mined marble, or flame blasted clay.

All in all, it was a really big, really impressive and really _boring_ looking place.

'I still say they should've done this in a field.'

Elora tapped the page in front of her and Zoë helpfully whisked her wand across the paper, sending up sparks as she rearranged the lettering. 'Spyro, you can't get married in a field. Where would you have the reception?'

'Same place. Why not? It always worked for us.'

Agent Nine (who currently looked just as bored and agitated as Spyro felt), looked up from where he had been clambering up and down one of the large, marble support columns and snorted. 'Yeah, but _your_ place ain't nothing _but_ fields, Dragon boy. Fields and trees and really old buildings to fly around.'

'What do you expect? We're dragons, we _fly around_…' –_When we _don't_ have freakin' clam shells attached to our wings_– '…We _like_ fields. Besides, there are town squares too.'

'Ohhh well that changes everything, it's totally three times more _boring_ there now.'

Spyro wanted to retort to that, but couldn't because he kind of agreed with him. When you compared it to the Artisan homeland, Scorch Desert was a riot.

He wasn't sure yet whether or not this even counted as a party. The kind of stuff he'd seen so far today didn't seem anything like the Dragon bonding ceremonies Spyro was more familiar with. Then again, Avalar tended to have some funny ideas about pretty much _everything_. Including how they chose their mates… Or how their mates chose them.

Yeah. It was definitely the other way around here.

For example, whereas dragons could've done this kind of stuff in a nice field somewhere with a few choice friends and maybe a Dragonfly Cleric or two, Avalar had to go all out, book a massive hall that cost thousands of gems worth of Avalarian currency (in the middle of a desert, no less. Spyro understood that Hunter had spent a huge part of his life in this place, but then why the heck would he want to come _back_ when just ten minutes in the hot sun made a dragon's scales dry out?) _And_ invite what seemed to be everyone they'd ever met. Where dragons would've settled things and been done with it in about twenty words, (a "_thank you_" here an "_undying affection_" there… really not Spyro's kind of thing) an Avalarian bonding apparently required _speeches_. Which had to be several pages long. And _funny_. And there had to be at least _three_ of them, read out by three different people who the bonding couple (or trio or whatever) believed to be the most important individuals in their lives.

Okay, it was kind of cool to be considered one of the three individuals, but Spyro was still going make the whole thing up as he went along. He didn't have opposable _thumbs_, how the heck was he supposed to write a speech, anyway? Supposedly this was meant to emphasise the important of the couple to each other. All the sentiment did for Spyro was give him a weird charcoal-like feeling on the back of his tongue. Romance. Marriage. Yuck.

Then there was the food to consider. And in this case, trying to keep Agent Nine well _away_ from the aforementioned food (which had ended up being Bentley's job today. Poor guy).

Maybe it was better not to ask questions and just go wherever Elora told him to go and do whatever Elora told him to do. If he asked, the Professor (where _was_ he, anyway?) would probably start directing him to books and articles and spend the rest of the day boring Spyro senseless with information about the formalities and important meanings of the ceremony. Spyro had never been big on history. Especially not _this_ kind of history. He just knew what he needed to know. And _most_ of what he'd needed to know had been taught to him by Hunter in a half an hour session, less than three hours ago.

Spyro would play his part and that was it. He'd leave the rest to Elora. Elora was good at this kind of thing.

The boundless hero taking directions. Small wonders would never cease. Spyro shrugged his shoulders absentmindedly and was rewarded with another nasty jolt from his wings.

'_Ouch_… damn it. You'd think these things were _supposed_ to cause as much pain as possible… actually I think they are.'

Elora sighed. 'Okay, I'll bite. Why would your ancestors want their traditional ceremonial garb to cause their descendants pain, Spyro?'

'I dunno… Because they're the ancestors and they're petty like that?'

'Whoa, your heritage really sucks.'

Elora reached out a hand and gave Agent Nine a tap on the back of the head with the hand not currently balancing her book. 'Agent Nine, behave. And get _down _from that table.'

Spyro grit his teeth and tried not to wince too much. He was the hero of multiple worlds, damn it, no way was he going to be beaten by a couple of old fashioned clamshells and chains. It really _hadn't_ been his idea to stick the damned decorations (which Agent Nine seemed to enjoy _poking_ so much) on his wings. That had been entirely Nestor's fault. The fact that Spyro was going along with it was just the icing on quite possibly the weirdest cake ever baked. In a desert.

Why _did_ they have to do this in a desert, anyway And why was that some kind of running theme? Another rule, which Spyro couldn't work out the meaning of, seemed to be that everyone had to be wearing yellow, in various shades. Or at least, they had to up until the end of the first ceremony, at which point everyone could take off the yellow (he hadn't worked out yet where or how) and dress however they wanted to for the reading of the speeches and the eating of the food.

Personally Spyro would've been happy to skip right through to the eating. At the moment, the fact that he was purple meant that this whole thing was making him stand out like a Rhynoc in a herd of Yakows. Plus, Agent Nine and had refused to accept the fact that futuristic, specially designed lab suits, even yellow ones, really weren't the kind of thing you were supposed to wear to a wedding.

Elora (who was also wearing yellow, in what little clothing she actually _had_ to wear. Which, for the record, wasn't much at all) tucked a pencil which had seemingly appeared out of nowhere behind one of her pointed ears. 'Honestly, guys, I'm starting to feel like I'm babysitting here. We're supposed to be the wedding organizers, not the… people-who-stand-around-and-make-tradition-oriented-jokes. Can't you people think of something useful to do?'

'We could,' Agent Nine grinned 'but I betcha it'd be damn boring. So I'll just settle for lazin' around right here, thank ya very much, miss goaty organizer Pperson.'

'_Faun_.' Elora grunted, obviously miffed about the oddly-common mix up between her and a goat. Spyro couldn't talk; he'd made the same mistake.

'Meh. Whatever ya are, I'm comfy right here.'

'Huh. Well just remember that if you accidentally-or-otherwise dismantle the entire temple or something, don't come running to me to get you out of the repair bills.'

'You know, these wing clips are _still_ hurting.'

'Oh, Spyro, for goodness sakes…'

'I must admit, your incessant agitation is mystifying, Spyro.' Ah. Bentley was back. Spyro would've known that over-literate voice anywhere (though he had no idea whatsoever how did a guy as big as his yeti friend could manage to _sneak up_ on someone like that). 'It seems to me that less that a year ago you were the deciding antecedent who prevented the completion of Ripto's latest contrivance for the subjugation of the Dragon Realms…'

'_Still_ hurting.'

'…You have overthrown a virtually omnipotent Sorcereress and her brobdingnagian array of magical faculties and abettors, not to mention several other undoubtedly insidious would-be tyrants from all across the many worlds…'

'Bentley, you're not _helping_.'

'…And yet somehow, you still seem to find it extraordinarily operose…'

'_And_ painful.'

'…To withstand the endowment of basic traditional dragon habiliments. I happen to believe they look rather engaging.'

Agent Nine (who obviously didn't have a clue what Bentley had just said –Spyro wasn't too sure himself– snorted with laughter again. 'Hah! Yeah, what the big guy said. Chill _out_, dragon boy, it's just a little dress up.'

Spyro scowled 'Oh, really? Then why don't I attach them to some of _your_ body parts and see how you li—'

The zap Zoë have him on the nose was light, barely even a tickle, but it still made him flinch a little and _that_ made his wings hurt again. '_Down_, boys. This is supposed to be a _happy_ occasion.'

Agent Nine huffed a little, slumping back against a pillar. 'Meh. Be happier if I had my laser gun.'

'You know the rule, Agent Nine,' Elora said. 'No shooty-fiery-weapons for you until after the ceremony.'

'Killjoy.'

'You better believe it, the rent on this place cost thousands in Avalarian currency, I'm _not_ risking you blowing it up.'

'Aw, c'mon, everyone knows it's not a real party unless something blows up!'

Spyro decided it would be better to just ignore Agent Nine. 'Bentley, look, as difficult as it was to understand a single word coming outta your mouth, I get the point. But they look like freaking _clam shells_ and they're attached to my _wings_ in much the same way. It _hurts_.'

A paw reached out and started rattling the bits of metal lace attached to the 'clam things' which were currently causing Spyro so much pain. The rattling really didn't help. 'Yeah and what's with all the weird chain mail stuff anyways? It looks like you're wearin' a real expensive spider's web.'

Spyro pulled his wing out of Agent Nine's grip. Which hurt. A lot. '_Ouch_. Leave off, Agent Nine. It's something to do with ancient lore. A legend about a guy who wore it when he fought off an evil dragon.'

Sheila (who had been busying herself hopping about amongst the still empty seats) was by far the most understanding member of the group when it came to the cultures of other creatures, but even she managed to look a little confused when she hopped over to where they stood. 'Blimey, mate,' she said, absently scratching an ear with her foot in a feat of gymnastics Spyro was pretty sure even Hunter couldn't manage. 'Why the heck would you wear something like that to go take on a _dragon_? Damned stuff looks like it'd weigh you down a heckuva lot. How did they even fly wearing that stuff?'

'I don't _know_ I just wore it because Nestor said it might be a good idea. It's something that represents our suffering for dignity or… whatever. Besides, what _else_ was I supposed to wear? This is a formal occasion, right? Dragons don't exactly keep wardrobes.'

'Well how 'bout a nice bowtie?'

'I rest my case, Agent Nine.'

'Whatever, can we start with the eats, yet? I'm craving some grub.'

'Oh, Agent Nine, you can't be hungry _now_,' Zoë piped. 'We haven't started the ceremony yet, the guests aren't even seated!'

'So? Tell that to my _stomach_. Can't you just magic up some food? You're the freakin' fairy here, lady.'

Zoë sighed. 'Look, everyone knows that food is one of the major exceptions of transfiguration law. You can't just 'magic it up' or make it out of something and even if I could, it would probably cost me my appropriate-magic-usage bonus at the club. Can't you wait a few hours?'

'Oh well let me think… no! I'm starving here!'

'Well tough,' Elora's tone brooked no argument. 'There's no food. There's just a whole load of guests who _still_ want to be seated in here and I'm not sure we have enough space.' She frowned over the book in her hands. 'In fact, I'm convinced we don't have enough space… Um, Sheila? Hey, Sheila! We need chairs over here.'

Spyro figured he was the only one who saw Elora poke her nose meaningfully in Agent Nine's direction while also looking at the kangaroo. Sheila took the hint '_Right_. Right on it, Els. Extra seating coming right up. Nine—' One small paw gripped Agent Nine's collar before the monkey could realise what she was doing. 'C'mon you. Mission –we've got another fifteen guests to seat and twenty minutes to do it in.'

'Fifteens actually, I want us ready five minutes in advance.'

'Gotcha, Elora. Fifteen!'

Agent Nine scratched his ear. 'Yeah, riiight. And this has _what_ to do with me, exactly?'

'C'mon, mate, work for your keep already. For a super-enhanced primate with an IQ of on hundred and twelve, you'd think you could handle finding a few chairs.'

'Aw what am I, a caddy boy?'

'Come _on_, Agent Nine.'

Spyro took a moment to watch them go, amused in spite of himself, before Bentley spoke up again. 'Anyhow, Elora, my dear, I have been sent to caution you of the ingress of the groom's somewhat more distant ménage via the astern vestibule which I had previously presumed was restricted to guests… And also to tell you of the aforementioned peoples rather misguided attempts to imbibe the decorative arrangements in the banquet halls. Might I suggest we attempt to stop them before they ascertain their mistake?'

'What was that, Bentley?'

'He means that the guests from the swamps have arrived through the wrong entrance and are eating the flowers on the dining tables and should we go kick 'em out.' Spyro said, and he wasn't even going to begin wondering how the heck he _knew_ what Bentley's speech had meant in the first place.

Elora's eyebrows rose just a little in a way which suggested she'd probably heard a lot of much weirder things in her life and was currently too agitated to worry about this little one. 'Oh-kay, I suppose that means we're adding chrysanthemums to the menu.' By this point, Elora has moved from reading the book to counting the heads of the "people" gathering in the hall behind them. 'All we need now is for the Breeze Builders over there to break their truce. Instant chaos. Wonderful.'

'Don't look at me;' Spyro shrugged. 'I didn't suggest he should invite 'em both.'

'Hm. Well, maybe they'll behave themselves the whole night in spirit of the occasion,' Elora didn't sound too hopeful about that.

'Or perhaps,' Bentley suggested, 'We could merely ensure that Spyro remain within their audible range for the entirety of the night?'

Elora frowned. 'Say what?'

'Bentley says that maybe I should just stay within their earshot all night,' Spyro clarified (again, with no idea how he did it). 'But I doubt that'd stop them anyway. You know what they're like.'

'Yeah, I know,' Elora muttered. 'Three peace conferences, two informal meetings on neutral territory, one karaoke night, and I _still_ can't get them to sit down and share a drink together. And the karaoke night just turned into a contest of who could make up the most insulting sounding lyrics.'

Spyro sat down, tucking his wings in to his side as if that might make them hurt a little less. 'No offence, Elora, but I don't think those guys are gonna make it to the after party.'

He imagined the expression on his face must have seemed a little bitter, because Elora started looking at him sadly, and with just the faintest hint of guilt. They both remembered what Zephyr had been like during the period Ripto had been in reign and even these days it wasn't much better. Spyro was expecting one of the Zephyrians to throw his pot-helmet at the nearest Builder's head. Another Breeze Builder looked like he was considering using his chair as an offensive weapon.

Spyro gave them ten minutes, tops.

'I know how you feel about it,' Elora said eventually. 'I'd feel the same.'

'Nah, it's cool. I mean, it will be, until they start trying to attack each other.'

'No, it's _not_. They exploited you. The fact that you were willing to help both of them. You never _meant_ to help them keep fighting each other and that isn't who I brought you here back then, you know that.'

'No. Still…' he managed a grin and did his level best to forget about the ongoing war waging in lands he'd vowed never to step foot in again. 'Wanna go tie them to their chairs.'

Elora smiled. 'I don't think that'll be necessary, Spyro. So, anyway, we have about ten seats left here and… where's Sparx anyway? He's better at heads-counting than I am, _and_ he could trace magical-weapons, were there any present.'

Spyro blinked. 'Magic tracing? Oh, come on, who would want to do anything rotten at Hunter and Bianca's wedding?'

'Stray Rhynoc? Angry Gnorc? Rebellious loyalists of the sorceress's regime who see Bianca as a traitor to her world?'

'Oh… yeah.' Spyro paused and looked around. It was a little strange, really, for Sparx to be away from him for long periods of time ('long' being defined as 'anything more than ten minutes'.) 'He's round the back. I think he's trying to be of use to Hunter or something.'

'Well why don't you make yourself useful and go find him? You're supposed to be the Suitor's Selected Comrade, after all? He's due out here in less than twenty minutes. Go check he hasn't made a last-minute break for freedom, or something.' She _sounded_ as if she was joking, but Spyro didn't get it anyway, and Elora saw him frowning at her. She shrugged. 'Trust me; it happens in all the stories. Pre wedding-jitters.'

'I'll take your word for it. And does this mean I get to take these things off of me?'

'Why're you asking me?' Elora's smile was far too knowing for Spyro's comfort. 'I'm not _making_ you wear the ceremonial decoration, Spyro, it's your secret, deep-down, respect for your ancestry that's doing that.'

'Uhuh… sure it is. I already said that I'm not big on history, didn't I?'

'So you _did_ say, but you still wore the "things".' Elora said. She was wearing the same '_I know you and you're more than you let on' _expression that she'd given him after he returned from kicking Ripto's scrawny orange butt. 'But yeah. If you _want_ to debauch your ancestry in public, then by all means…'

She must have been taking lessons from Nestor, Spyro thought. '…Guilt tripper.'

Still he couldn't help but be glad he wasn't facing Elora when she said: 'You better believe _that_ too, dragon boy. Oh and by the way, you haven't fetched the torcs, yet. Can't have someone getting married without torcs, they're kind of important.'

'I _knew_ that.'

Somewhere at the only side of the room a loud cough which probably wasn't a real cough at all so much as a vaguely concealed insult. Zephyrians began muttering and tin hats started clattering together. Feathers rustled. Three rows forwards, Greta started clenching her fists.

Spyro bit his tongue without meaning to. 'Man,' he said. 'They look kinda…'

'Like they're about to start bashing each other with chairs and tin pots?' Elora suggested.

'…I was going to say that they look kinda hostile, but your way works too.'

Another loud cough, this time from the other side of the room and also far more obvious as being really an insult _disguised_ under a cough. A fairy at the front had started tapping her foot irritably against the leg of her too-large chair. Elora drew a sharp breath. 'Look,' she whispered in Spyro's ear. 'Just… go deal with Hunter, okay? I'll sort out those guys and try to keep them off each other for a while. Let him know what's happening and try not to let him freak out about it, the ceremony starts in _fifteen_ minutes, we can't afford a screw up right now.'

'You're sure you can handle them?'

'Can Agent Nine operate a laser-guided weapon?' Elora smiled yet again, and this time Spyro was glad of the chance to turn away because damn it, how did she _know_ these things?

Like he was going to get worked up about some silly, romantic ceremony.

He walked between the rows of Breeze Builders and The Zephyrians quite deliberately on his way out of the room.

* * *

**Final Thought: One of the most entertaining things about writing Bentley is the fact that I can raid a thesaurus and won't get hauled up for use of purple (pardon the pun) prose – because he does literally talk that way.**


	2. Freaking Out To Various Degrees

**Chapter two here: up far sooner than expected, given that I passed over a betaread. Any errors, grammatical or otherwise, are entirely my own fault. It's actually taken longer than I thought it would to get to the point I want to be at. Whether or not this is a good thing or a bad thing I'll have to wait and find out. **

**There have been edits to the lost chapter, mostly to clear up some grammar and spelling issues., but there's one significant edit to the ending Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

**

Chapter Two: Freaking Out To Various Degrees.

_It's like fire or thunder. Or both. Or neither. Whatever it is, its _hot_, and it _burns_, and it takes Spyro an entire minute of pain to realise it's not just the portal that's hurting him. He's been hit by something… maybe one of the Dark Servants' knives. _

_That was the moment when the portal sucked him in. The details aren't important right now. He feels the familiar, magically-driven sensation tugging on his heart and lungs. It hurts a lot more than the last portal did, like being locked inside tightening armour. And then it twists inwards, the light spinning itself into a lightning-emblazoned tunnel going from one place to another. From wherever they _were_ to wherever they're going. _

_He wonders what would happen if he crashed into the walls and figures he'd rather not find out. _

_The real crazy thing is that the Apes are _following_, charging into the void after him with no concern for their own pain or lives. Sometimes he can see why Sparx calls them 'insane'. What else could they _be? _Why else would they follow him? _

Where the _heck_ are we going?

_There's another familiar sensation –this one the beat of a dragonfly's wings, rapid and tickling against his side. But by now they're both tumble-turning over and over inside of the portal and Sparx must be clinging onto Spyro's wings for dear life. Spyro hopes he _keeps_ clinging. The energy coming from the tunnel would probably rip a dragonfly to shreds. Maybe it's ripping him apart, too. Maybe that's where all the pain is coming from. _

No… no, that was the ape, remember? The one that got you when you looked up. It's just a portal right? Just a _Portal_.

…_A portal which feels as if it's tearing him into a thousand pieces._

_Or maybe that's _not_ the portal at all. He can't tell anymore, and actually, he probably couldn't even tell in the first place. The last time he turned and fell into nothing like this, it'd been after his first ever flight, when he's realised he didn't know how to land. Where was the landing place here? Where did the portal _finish

_Maybe it never did… _

_Still _just a portal, damn it, Spyro, get a _grip_!

_He can't fly. There's no control in here, nothing for him to brace himself against. The energy beats in his ears like a drum and disrupts every moment he tries to make. _

_Portals tend to _go _places. Sometimes, all you can do is go with them. _

_It's not like he has any other choice.

* * *

_

Spyro was pretty sure by now that all the rooms in this temple (or shrine, or whatever it was supposed to be) looked exactly the same.

That was probably why they'd hung up all of those banners. The only way you could tell which end of the building you were in was by whether the faded flags on the walls were red, silver, orange or blue. In this particular area they were orange, which was the only clue Spyro had that he was heading in the right direction. Everything else in the temple which hadn't been brought in by the wedding party was either white or yellow. There was probably some kind of psychological significance to that.

_Boring_.

And anyway, it would have been nice to see some green, like the plains of the Artisan Realm. Or maybe some purple… Not that Spyro agreed with Elora about the whole 'loyalty to the really long dead ancestors' stuff or anything but hey, who was he to go against centuries of dragon tradition? It looked as if they made a lot less mess about these things than Avalar did, so dragons were obviously doing something right.

He had to follow Elora's instructions (not to mention the distinctive trail of dragonfly magic) to work out just where Hunter was, and even then he missed the door a few times before finding it and rapping at it with his tail –carefully, so as not to jolt the jarring clips on his wings too much.

First plan of action: ask about the Breeze Builders and why the heck they were here at the same time as the Zephyrians were, and after Elora had spent the last twelve months trying to get those two to sit down in a peace conference without throwing rotten fruit and cutlery at one another (and still hadn't succeeded).

Second plan of Action: Ask what he was supposed to be doing as _Suitor's Selected Comrade_ or whatever it was calledagain, before he forgot what he was supposed to be doing.

Third plan of action (the one which Elora seemed to think was most important): get the suitor to the alter on time. Elora seemed to think this was going to be difficult and knowing Hunter, it probably was. Spyro actually took a deep breath before giving the door a tap with his horns. When he replayed the scene later in his mind, he'd be sure to edit that part out. No pressure.

'…Hunter?'

'I'm not panicking!' Someone called (or more like _yelled really loudly_) from inside. Spyro stepped back from the door a little bit on what he would later swear was impulse.

'Heh. Sure you're not. So you're in there, right? I think Elora's getting worried about whether you might… Oh, whoa.'

'…What?'

Spyro opened his mouth to reply but the answer he was thinking of refused to emerge for some reason, no matter how many times he repeated it in his head.

And that was the moment when any of his previous plans of action went clean out of the window.

"Oh whoa", as it happened, was the exact moment that he pushed open the door of the room. All white again, with the usual faded orange banners, opening out onto what looked like a balcony. Spyro was also pretty sure that that was a "Hunter's-been-pacing-back-and-fourth-a-lot" track rubbed into the pattern on the floor (Hey, there was a _pattern_. This place was finally starting to brighten up).

Sparx had obviously been trying to make himself useful or whatever it was that he had come down here to do, but after a while it seemed that the dragonfly had gotten dizzy with Hunter's constant pacing and settled himself down for a nap on the tabletop. That was where he was right now, dozing inattentively. Spyro thought something to him as quickly as he could, but the dragonfly merely blinked at him a little, thought back a single, muted sentence ("_panicking, calm him down already,_") and went right back to dozing. Obviously Sparx had had already had time to get used to what Spyro was now seeing. "Whoa" was a really appropriate sentiment.

'I…'

'Okay, does it really look that bad? Because this thing's a rental, they were really screwy with the sizing, I don't even think it was designed for my _species_ and… and come _on_, Spyro why are you looking at me like that?'

For Spyro, seeing Hunter in clothing (any clothing which wasn't boots or skater gear, anyway) was kind of like seeing the Magical Convexity Meteorite Storms that appeared over the Artisan Realms once every five thousand years –it wasn't actually supposed to happen in your lifetime, and even if by some unlikely stroke of luck it did, cruel fate dictated that you were supposed to be asleep or on holiday or something and when it happened, which also meant that you point blank refused to believe anyone who told you about it afterwards.

Because the sight of Hunter wearing clothing was just _that_ weird.

Really old fashioned clothing (sort of like the stuff he'd seen them wearing in Charmed Ridge) for that matter. Spyro knew that if anyone had told him about this without his ever actually being there, he probably wouldn't have believed them, either.

Yup. _Just_ like the Convexity Storms. Except rarer.

'I…. Nothing, nothing, it's just… I repeat, man: Whoa.'

'Yeah,' Hunter fidgeted, which was weird, because despite the fact that he was possibly the clumsiest person Spyro had ever met, Hunter never really fidgeted much these days. Twitchy people didn't really make for great archers. 'You can stop saying that now.'

Spyro blinked. 'Ah… Sorry, it's just… Hunter, what the heck?'

Hunter grimaced before looking down and examining the (white again) material of his sleeves for a non-existent stain. 'What? Seriously, what is it? Is there something on this thing? There's something on it isn't there?!'

'Hunter, relax, it's just… the shirt.' Spyro figured he was half laughing at this point. He couldn't help it. He was also starting to wonder why people hadn't warned him about all this days ago.

'Oh… Yeah. I think they call it a tunic.'

'Which… which would be on you _why_, exactly? You never said that _you'd_ be getting dressed up for this and… are those pants?'

'Uh-huh, you usually wear them with this get up. The tunic would look funny if you didn't have the pants, or something. The pants are important; I'll be keeping the pants, thanks very much.'

Spyro hoped Hunter was being ironic there, because _something_ about this whole situation had to be normal, right?

Still, at least they weren't yellow, like everything everyone else was wearing. Spyro figured he could cope with all the brown and white, even if it was on Hunter. Spyro beat his wings without meaning to and it took all his self control not to wince. Darn ceremonial garb. 'No offence, but it looks a little funny anyway… I guess because I'm not used to seeing that stuff on _you_.'

'Oh yeah? Says the guy with the… the chain mail spiders webs attached to his wings?'

Spyro bristled defensively which, predictably, made his wings hurt all over again. 'Tradition. It's your fault, anyway, you're the one who said this was formal.'

'It _is_ formal. And this is tradition too. In a weird way. A _really_ weird way… You're _sure_ there's nothing on it, right? Because I'm _not_ going out there in front of all those people with—'

'Hunter, _focus_.'

'Focus. Right. Yeah. Totally focussed here.'

He wasn't, but Spyro decided to keep talking anyway. 'Good, now about the guests out there…' Okay. So Hunter was obviously freaking out right about now and it probably wasn't fair, or a suitable time, to bring up his choice in wedding guests but seriously, anyone who put the Breeze Builder's and the Zephyrians in the same place together for longer than ten minutes was just _asking_ for a fight to break out.

Besides, he needed to find out exactly who he was going to have to say hello to later on. '…Who the heck are those monks anyway?'

'What, you don't remember Clive and Bern? They only saved your hide back in Colossus.'

'They did?'

'Yeah, they shook a statue onto the evil yeti's head, remember?'

'Oh right… them.' The names were familiar, now that Spyro thought about it, but he all the Colossus monks looked the same to him. And all he'dreally seen had been a hulking lump of marble falling and landing right on top of a yeti that had otherwise been just about to pulverise him. 'What about those fairies in the third row back? They're Zoë's friends, right?'

'Nope, they're mine too. That's Grandma Agathie and the family, she used to cub sit—awk!' Whatever it was that Hunter had been trying to attach to his tunic slipped out of his grip and dropped under the table, closely followed by the man himself.

That was when Spyro realised that the two torcs Elora had told him about were sitting right there on the table. They were important, right? They were also in his current job description, and while he really didn't get how they were supposed to _be_ important, he didn't know much about these kinds of ceremonies_ at all_, so that was another thing he was going to just go along with, for now. He slipped them carefully over one arm and looked back at Hunter. 'Your babysitter was a fairy?'

'_Cub_ sitter, and if _you_ wanna try and mess with Grandmother Agathie, buddy, be my guest, but don't say I didn't warn you.'

Spyro decided to take his word for it. The chances were he'd never have to deal with Grandmother Agathie anyway and he'd learned through experience that it was better not to underestimate fairies. 'So… what about all the people from Zephyr? You knowthem?'

Hunter re-emerged from under the table (minus whatever he'd been looking for) 'Spys, where do you think I learned to use a bow and arrow in the first place? Did you see where that cufflink-thingy went? It's down here _somewhere_…'

'_And_ the people from Breeze Harbour?' Spyro continued, steadily.

Hunter paused in his search, bolting back to his feet. '…In the same room, at the same time?' Spyro went on, probing for an understanding which simply wasn't coming from Hunter, who just continued to stare at him, blinking obliviously. '..Less than ten feet away from each other and… and okay, you _didn't_ actually know they were there, did you?'

'Nnno. No I'm pretty sure I didn't invite two mortal enemies to my wedding, Spyro. What do you think I'd… I mean… what _is_ this? _Marco and Juliet_?!'

'Looks kinda like it might end up that way.'

Hunter had fur, but Spyro could've sworn his face got paler anyway, 'Aw, _man_, this could get really messy.'

'No kidding it could. Well they're behaving themselves so far… Elora thinks it might be because I'm here and… you know. The War Thing.'

'Yeah, the War Thing. Right. Stupid war.' Hunter looked like he was biting his bottom lip and trying even harder than before not to freak out completely. 'How long do you think it'll take before they think you've let your guard down and start throwing stuff at each other?'

'Beats me. Twenty minutes, tops? Depends on how far Elora got those Peace Talks along. I don't think she's doing too well. They were already pulling faces at each other when I left the room.'

'Oh, great,' Hunter groaned, slapping a paw into his face. 'That's all I need… Bianca's gonna go crazy.'

'Well with any luck she'll marry you _before_ the fighting breaks out.'

'Yeah. Yeah, marriage first, _then_ civil unrest. That would be good. So, you're sure there's no—?'

'Hunter for the last time, there's _nothing_ wrong with the shirt.'

'Gotcha. I… okay. So clear this up for me, Spyro: I don't even know any Breeze Builders! I mean…' Hunter paused for a moment, 'Hey, you think maybe I should get Grandmother Agathie to sit between them?'

'Ah, sure, fine, if it makes you feel better, Hunter, why are they out there if you didn't invitethem?'

'You keep asking me that. You're _always_ asking me questions I don't know the answer to, Spyro. How the heck should I know?! I'm the groom not the planner!'

Spyro watched as Hunter made another three or four circuits round the room, vanished onto the balcony once or twice and came back, seemingly a little more composed than before. Spyro guessed it would take a few minutes before he started losing it again.

'Well don't look at me, it's not my job either, and Elora sure doesn't _know_ these people. And Hunter, stop _panicking_, will you? Look, you're already wearing a hole in the floor.'

'What, me? I'm not panicking. Who's panicking? _I'm_ not panicking, they're _new boots_, they… they need breaking in! And the Breeze Builder's need taking out. Or the Zephyrians. Or _both_, I don't really care, but they need to leave right _now_!'

'You're _sure_ you don't know anyone from the Harbour?'

'Spyro, I'm a _cat_!'

Spyro opened his mouth to protest, then remembered Hunter's hatred of water and closed it again. '…Okay, point. I guess you don't want any family members to get stuck in the middle of an impromptu battle when both of them decide they want the desert…'

'What, them? Naw, my folks could handle a Riptoc invasion, remember? It's not _them_ I'm worried about; it's Bianca's side.'

'Bianca has family members out there?' Spyro flinched, suddenly realising that he hadn't taken that into account. As much as he liked Bianca, trying to imagine other family members with her temper, mind-set and the ability to shoot ten-tonne, condensed energy bombs at you made his head whirl. 'Which ones are they?'

'None of them. That's the point, she doesn't have anyone. At all. Not even a second cousin seven-times-removed, or something. She's got the Professor as a chaperone, Elora as a Conductor and she's getting _you_ to sign the contracts as her legal guardian. So I'm pretty sure she didn't invite the Breeze Builders, either.'

'Oh, right but… wait, hang on a sec, she's getting me to sign as her _what_? There are contracts? I'm _signing_ them? When did this happen?' Okay, brilliant, now he was starting to sound like Hunter. Spyro honestly couldn't believe Elora had expected _him_ to calm the groom down.

'Legal guardian: you're the closest thing she could get to one. It's easy; you just hold a wand, sign on the dotted line and hey presto. Anyway, from the looks of it there's _no one else_ out there who Bianca even knows. Most them are either people I know, people Elora knows or people _you_ know. That's it.'

'Oh-kay. So, you know more about this than I do...' Spyro realised he knew pretty much nothing about Bianca's upbringing, except for the parts of it which had involved the Sorceress and he figured that _those_ stories were better left unknown. 'Why are you telling me?'

'You asked!' Hunter's waving arms did an oddly convincing impression of the glider-wings he sometimes wore in the Avalar air-races. 'And because you're _there_, you're _supposed_ to be there for this kind of thing and I'm not panicking, I'm _freaking out_! Even _I _don't remember half the people out there, some of them must've invited themselves when they heard _you'd_ be here and I don't get how there can't be a single member of the brides family or… or acquaintances here.'

Spyro frowned. 'Not that any of us think badly of Bianca, but… she did work for the sorceress, right? I mean, assisting world domination doesn't exactly make you popular. They must be friends of friends or… something like that. They've gotta be. They can't be Bianca's, she never said anything about knowing any Breeze Builders and even if she _had_, she already knew Zephyrians were coming!'

'Hunter, will you just relax? It's cool, okay?'

'No,' Hunter snapped. At least, Spyro thought, he'd stopped pacing back and fourth now. The pattern on the floor would be spared. 'It is _not_ cool. This is _anything_ but cool. It's so not-cool it's making the desert look like an ice rink. Right now I'm somewhere close to a near death experience.'

Spyro felt himself grinning before he could stop himself. 'You know, that seems to happen to you _whenever_ Bianca is involved.'

'…Funny, dragon boy.'

'Look, you're just playing this up too much. we can handle them, right? It's just a couple of warring realmers, that's all. By the way, what am I supposed to say when I'm handing over this weird thing?' The jangled his wrist, wondering if torcs were really supposed to make so much noise.

' Point, Spyro, man, stick to the point!'

'Okay, _okay_. So if you didn't invite the Breeze Builders, Bianca didn't invite them, I didn't, and Elora's not dumb enough to even _think_ about it, then who did?'

'I repeat: no idea in heck. And Spyro, I totally need my cufflinks here right _now_.'

'What's a cufflink?'

'I don't _know_ but I just dropped one on the floor and I think I'm supposed to do something with it!'

'So go out without it.'

'What? I can't do that! They came in a _box_ so they've gotta be important. What if the marriage is null and void or something if I'm not wearing them?'

Spyro let out his breath as slowly as he could and somehow managed to avoid flaming anything in the process. He had a tendency to flame when frustrated. 'Okay, wait. We're jumping back and fourth between problems here, what's more important –the Breeze Builder's or the cufflinks?'

'The cufflinks, duh! The Breeze Builders I deal with all the time, and I_ still _don't know what you _do_ with the cufflinks!'

'Hey, it's not my fault I've never seen you wearing stuff like that before. Actually, I've never seen you wearing anything much before.'

'Yeah, I think it would defy the point of having fur, or something.' Hunter muttered. Then he jumped back onto the table, seemingly forgetting about the cufflink (whatever it was) and slumping a little as if he'd just finished a five-thousand metre dash. He looked on the point of tying his tail into a knot. (He'd actually done that, once to act as a reminder back when the two of them had been egg hunting in the Forgotten worlds. Bianca had had a good laugh about it but then; she hadn't been on their side at the time. Not _quite_. Spyro suspects the tail-thing might've clenched it. That and Hunter's comment to her about scuba diving lessons or something). 'Um… Hunter? Are you alright? I didn't mean it when I said that get up looked weird you know…'

'No I'm _not_ alright, Spyro,' Hunter sighed. 'I'm dead. _Living_ dead. I'm getting married –Married, the big M word that kind of something is supposed to last for the rest of your natural life.'

'…So what is it? Second thoughts.'

'Pfft. More like _fifteenth thoughts_. But it's still supposed to happen. I know it's supposed to happen, my tail told me so.'

Spyro took a moment to process this, while clambering up to sit on the table besides Hunter. The torcs on his wrist jangled noticeably and Hunter kept looking at them weird. 'Your… wait a sec your tail told you so?'

'Yeah, it does that. It's important. It always means something. It started twitching from the moment I met her. You remember that, right?'

'I remember that she nearly toasted you to a crisp with an energy bomb.'

Hunter chuckled. 'Yeah…. She was really something, huh? And cute when she was angry, too.'

'…If you say so.'

'Anyway that's why I like her, you know? Because… she's brave and she's strong, and she'll do whatever she has to complete what she needs to complete. And she's not _bad_ she just thought the sorceress was _good_ or something like that and she's really _nice_ once you get to know her even if some people are scared of her at first. And her eyes are pretty. As is the rest of her which is totally _not_ the deciding factor but… but it helps, right?'

Spyro shuffled, still of the firm belief that, best friend or no best friend, he was always going to be uncomfortable having this kind of conversation. And Hunter _knew_ he got uncomfortable, because he was giving Spyro that "you're gonna blow up if I keep talking like this but I'm gonna risk it and keep talking anyway because I really need to say it, whether you want to hear it or not" expression. 'Oh-kay… I'm kinda losing the point here, Hunter.'

'My _point_ is that she… She's _Bianca_ and I actually want to spend the rest of my life with her… Except for the times when she's taking on a Rhynoc who insulted her ears… then she's just scary. Stunning, but scary.'

Spyro smiled. _Finally_, something he could comprehend. 'Hunter, _nobody_ wants to be around Bianca when she's like that. _I_ don't wanna be around Bianca when she's like that. I've _felt_ those energy bombs.'

'Yeah, so have I.'

'And it obviously didn't put you off. You're done making lists now, right? I get it, Bianca's cool, and you wanna marry her. So what's the problem?'

'My problem is that I'm _marrying_ her!' Hunter pointed out, much to Spyro's confusion. 'In eight minutes and twenty-five seconds. I can't find the cufflink I have no idea what to do with anyways, and there are two warring civil factions about to start a battle in the outer hall, possibly _during_ the ceremony. I don't think even Elora could keep them under control when they get going and she's the leader of most of the freakin' _world_. She is _so_ going to walk out of the room.'

'Who, Elora? She can't, you know how stubborn she is about getting things right. She'll probably boss them into submission or something.'

Hunter gave him a dry stare. 'Not _her_, I'm talking about _Bianca_.'

Spyro took a moment to blink. He was pretty sure the whole marriage thing wasn't supposed to work like this and…

Okay. This must've been some of those pre-wedding jitters Elora had been telling him about. 'Hunter, trust me, Bianca isn't gonna walk out on her own wedding.'

'Why not? She walked out on a woman who could give her all the power in the universe.'

'Yeah, because she met _you_.' Well actually, Spyro thought that meeting _him_ probably had more to do with Bianca's not-so-remarkable change of heart, but that was probably not what Hunter needed to hear. He was still a part of it anyway. Spyro was fairly certain it was a big part, because the _plague of love_; as far as Spyro was aware, made people do some pretty crazy things. Like betray an evil sorceress who could've transformed you into putty on one hand and the world's most powerful plaything on the other without a thought, for example.

Spyro understood the way the sorceress had worked because he understood bad guys. He _didn't_ pretend to understand love. '…I'm pretty sure she's not gonna up and walk out just because some Breeze Builders and Zephyrians started getting shirty with each other. Besides, if they _try_ to play up, I'll just have to toast em', that's all.' (Spyro heard a sleepy chuckle in his brain and felt the familiar fluttering of dragonfly wings against his shoulder. _Oh, real smooth, Spyro. You're getting points for that one_.)

(_Cut it _out_, Sparx, I'm trying my best_.')

Hunter looked like he was gearing up to run, but somehow didn't. Possibly through sheer will power. '…I… You're sure?'

'I'm as sure as Ripto is an ugly little orange dude with bad dress sense. Even worse than yours.'

'Oh, har, _har_. I can't believe I'm asking _you_ for romantic advice. That's like asking Agent Nine for information on serenity.'

Spyro grinned. 'I mean it, Hunter, its okay. And Elora was sorting out the Breeze Builders even when I left the room. I betcha they're already forming a truce just to keep her happy and sitting quietly back in their seats by—'

**BOOM!**

'—Now.'

And then the shudder that must have accompanied the loud noise seemed to finally reach them. The ground lurched under Spyro's feet, like the deck of a ship. He was almost jolted right off of the table and saw Hunter's fingers clenching into a familiar, almost instinctive position –the way they'd usually shape around a bow and arrow, except that he _had_ no bow and arrow to shape them round.

'…Spyro? Call me crazy, but that didn't sound like a group of Breeze Builders and Zephyrians calmly deciding to form a temporary truce.'

Spyro swallowed, feeling a sudden jab of pain which had nothing whatsoever to do with the clamps on his wings.

He'd know the sound of a Zephyr Jade Bomb anywhere. 'Ah… No. I guess it didn't, huh?'

**KABOOM!**

'…And neither did that.'

'Aw, _man_, I told you this whole thing was doomed!'

'Well, maybe not _doomed_ so much as "kinda temporarily inconvenienced".' Spyro shoved the torcs a little further up his arm so as not to lose them when he started running. 'We should probably…'

'Go check it out?' Hunter finished, dryly. 'And me without my bow.'

Spyro swallowed the groan that had been forming in the back of his throat. They _really_ should have done this in a field.

* * *


	3. Good Reasons Not to Invite Local Enemies

**Chapter three up here. I'm frankly amazed by the speed at which this thing is going up. No doubt because it's anticipating a massive slow-down in chapter production once I start really getting into the new semester at university. **

**I'm getting to something with this, I swear. **

**There have been small edits to the last twp chapters. Mostly grammatical improvement, etc. Standard disclaimers apply.

* * *

**

Chapter Three: A Good Reason Not to Invite Local Enemies. 

She watched them the way the Professor always watched his screens and laboratory tables during a particularly volatile experiment, or the way Sparx would focus on a butterfly. In other words –_extremely_ closely.

It was one of those ancient fights nobody was really sure of the origins of and which nobody had any idea how to stop. Elora had read all the history books she could find on the realms of Zephyr and Breeze Harbour and she hadn't been able to find any concrete answers. There were a few fairy tales about an old blood feud, and one or two other stories about a romance between the two world's leaders which had turned sour in a big way but that was all they were –stories and fairy tales, and Elora didn't believe in those kind of things. It could as easily be fiction as fact, and it seemed that nobody could be entirely sure when, where or most importantly _why_ the battle between the two realms had begun. Elora had never known a time when the two realms hadn't been at odds with each other.

She had dealt with them a few times before during her leadership of Avalar but it never seemed to get any easier. Civil war wasn't something any leader really wanted to deal with. She supposed it was kind of like the way a mother might feel while trying to separate two fighting children. Except that these children numbered into thousands and each had large stocks of explosive weaponry at their disposal. Having the two factions together in the same room was kind of like letting Monty Moneybags loose in your treasury –one way or another, there was going to be trouble.

'Elora, not that I want to interupt the whole checking-these-guy's-don't-attack-each-other thing, but I think that one has something hidden under his coat.'

Elora forced herself to swallow a sigh. 'Yeah I see it, Zoë. Leave it be for now, he seems okay.'

'Based on what?'

'Gut instinct.'

'Oh… alright. Though you know I'm probably the only person who'll go with you on your gut alone.'

Elora nodded, as much to herself as to Zoë. To their benefit, they _all_ looked pretty formal and well organized, Breeze Builders and Zephyrians alike. The Builders had procured little yellow bow ties, and the Zephyrians wore their medals with yellow ribbon. They still, however, looked at each other like they were about to start a war –or rather, continue one– across the isles.

They hadn't _come_ here to fight. Elora was in no doubt about that. The last thing any of them wanted to do was interrupt such an important, personal ceremony. But the option was still on the list.

'Surely they wouldn't…' Zoë whispered. The little fairy was shaking her head and tapping her wand against her bottom lip (carefully, so as not to accidentally sent a spurt of magic up her nose as she had done several times in the past.) 'I mean… not _here_. Now _not_. Even _they_ aren't that determined to pick a fight with each other.'

'I hope you're right, Zoë,' Elora said. So long as the two groups stayed a safe distance away from each other, there wouldn't normally be a problem. The issue _was_ that the two rows were barely ten feet apart. The last time she'd had the two factions sitting so close to each other, she'd been trying to conduct a Peace debate, and that whole thing had gone straight down the wazoo when Spyro charged into the room, trying to take out a bombing Canary that for some insane reason seemed intent on lobbing itself at the crowd. She still hadn't _quite _forgiven him for that.

And then it happened. Elora had no idea what it was, which side of the room it had come from (if either) or who was stupid enough to throw it. It looked rather like a pebble and it was obviously flexible judging by the way it bounced so easily right off a Zephyrian's domed, purple head. Something the Breeze Builders sitting opposite seemed to find hilarious.

The offending object bounced several more times in the isle and came to a stop at the feet of a small goat sitting in the front row, and now that Elora got a better look at it, she could see what it actually was. A small, yellow, honeyed-hazelnut. Probably one from the Honey Marshes Bianca was so fond of visiting (she liked the smell, apparently).

Somebody was throwing the wedding treats around.

The Zephyrian looked indignant for a moment, then he shuffled, dug out his helmet from… wherever it was he had been hiding it (Elora suspected the Zephyrians could probably hide objects inside of their gelatinous bodies but she'd never been close enough at the time to find out for sure) and plonked it squarely on his head. The Breeze Builders laughter died down into a mumble as Greta cast an accusing look at them over her chair.

For a while, things were calm again. Elora let out a breath she hadn't realised she was holding and went back to inspecting the book which she now had lain out on one of the two alter steps, trying to remember the words of the ceremony she was supposed to be conducting.

Then there was another much louder "_plonk_". This time as another honeyed nut bounced right off the Colonel's helmet. The Zephyrian let out an offended grunt and the Breeze Builders started muttering again. Zoë started wringing her hands around her wand. A third nut was thrown. And a fourth, and a fifth, and then…

…Elora lost count. The oddly distinctive sound of honeyed hazelnuts plonking against helmets was joined by the sound of them thudding against beaks, chairs and many of the other people in the isles. There was a round of quiet laughter from the guests who had seen the funny side. The Zephyrians, however, didn't see the funny side at all. There was no saying that the Breeze Builders were the ones who were _throwing_ the things in the first place (they seemed to be getting hit, too, after all) but the Zephyrians had already made up their mind what the cause of the disruption was. From here, Elora realised, it was only a matter of time.

'Oh boy,' Zoë swallowed. 'Here we go again…'

By now, the Zephyrians were practically on their "feet" (not that they _had_ feet, exactly). One of them muttered something under his breath which seemed to catch a Breeze Builder's attention, so then _he_ started muttering back. Their voices gradually escalated, and Elora managed to catch the sounds of what might've been insults being thrown back and fourth just quiet enough for nobody to be sure that they really _were_ insults.

'Flea bi…'

'…Ool.'

'…Wretched war-mon…'

'Greedy scu…'

'Elora, you should do something,' Zoë whispered in Elora's ear. 'Go talk to them, get them to sit down, take it outside, _anything_.'

'I _know_,' Elora grit her teeth, since doing something about this was really the last thing she wanted right now. She was here to conduct a ceremony, not diffuse a battle.

But what else could she do? Who else would they listen to? Spyro, maybe, but she'd gone and been clever enough to send him out of the room and goodness knew, he was no good at arguing anyway. Spyro's usual answer to a problem was to hit it until it broke.

She managed to avoid doing anything at all until the muttering noise turned into yelling, at which point any hopes of things simmering down on their own became null and void. Elora grit her teeth, clenched her fists, and marched between the row of chairs towards the skirmish-in-development.

'Colonel?' The Zephyrian in question blinked at her with small, beady eyes, seeming not to have realised she was standing there until she spoke. 'Is there a _problem_ here?'

For a long moment, the Zephyr colonel gazed at her, as if trying to remember who she was (like he _hadn't_ sat in peace talks with her half a dozen times in the past). Then he pushed his helmet further up his domed head and sniffed through invisible nostrils. 'Look two rows to the left, lady, and ask me that question again.'

Elora glanced at the silent congregation, then looked back at the Zephyrian, scowling. 'Well I see eighteen guests including about six Breeze Builders to the left, and seeing as they're _there_, then I guess they've been invited to the wedding.'

'Yeah, exactly. _That's_ the problem.'

'Is it, now? Well clearly the people getting married didn't think so,' Elora said, trying to maintain that calm, collected air she knew usually got her so far in debates. The person, who started yelling first, she remembered someone telling her once, was usually the person who had lost the argument. 'I understand you might feel a little unsure around each other, but I'd also like to think that given the circumstances, you can put your concerns aside for a while.'

'I didn't come here to fight, citizen!' One of the other Zephyrians snapped. 'But then again, I didn't expect those yellow bellied, grey livered flying _fowl_ to be making an appearance, this area is _off limits_ to their kind.'

'Somehow I don't think that's up to you,' Elora said, managing to keep her cool despite the marshal's baton currently waving in her face. She was supposed to be a leader here, damn it; she was _not_ going to be bullied by a blunted stick. 'If they didn't want them here they wouldn't have invited them and Scorch isn't involved with your battles.'

On of the Zephyrian's snorted. 'Boy never mentioned knowing any of their type. He wouldn't have called our enemies here, he's got more sense. More _loyalty_, too.'

Zoë uttered a slightly confused 'Our?' to herself, but Elora kept her attention fixed on the stirring crowd, most of whom were beginning to grumble. A couple were even leaving their seats and beginning to shift towards the exits.

Be damned if she was going to let this happen at a wedding. _Hunter and Bianca's_ wedding.

'That's not for you to decide either,' she said, noting the slightly confused look on Zoë's face and knowing she'd have to explain just how Hunter knew these guys later on. 'This isn't Zephyr or Breeze Harbour and I'm _not_ in the mood for playing mediator so if you're going to start anything, do us a favour and take it outside.'

'Here here, goatish,' a snappish voice yelled from the "audience" (it was starting to _feel_ like an audience, anyway). Elora wasn't sure who it was, or whether she was being complimented or insulted, but it hardly mattered. 'We're not here for fights and gunplay, ya here? Take it back to Zephyr already and let us get on with things.'

'Stay out of this!' a Breeze Builder snapped. 'This is none of your affair.'

'Enough!' Elora snapped, realising she was losing her patience, just as she'd promised herself she wouldn't. 'I'm not going to stand for this. Not here and not now. it's so childish bringing all this up at a _wedding_.'

'Tell _them_ that,' someone spat. Elora didn't really care who it was.

'I'm telling the _both of you_. Stop this at once, what do you think this is, a playground? We have no place for war games here.'

The two sides of the argument garbled at each other fiercely, but Elora heard a quiet "here, here" from amidst the other guests. That was encouraging. Nobody here really _wanted_ a fight, so maybe she could still disperse this without trouble.

At first, she was so engrossed in smoothing things out, that she didn't notice Zoë tugging on her arm.

'Um… Elora, who _is_ that?'

Elora glanced in the direction Zoë was pointing. In the chaos, one of the Breeze Builders' –a shuffling figure, buried under an old cloak that– had broken away from the growing rabble. Elora hadn't noticed. She'd been so focussed on the crowd and…

…And was he even a _Breeze Builder_? No. Now that Elora saw him, separated from the group, he didn't _look_ very much like one. His feathers were dark and strange, his beak looked as if it had been taped on and his _eyes_…

Oh, no.

No _way_.

Zoë had noticed him by now, too, and her wand was in the air, her eyes widening. 'Elora? Y-you know what I said about the guy with the thing under his co—eek!'

Zoë's sentence was cut to an abrupt halt by the sound of something firing. There was a burst of gold light, a cry of alarm from someone in the crowd, and everything around her was suddenly cast in a heavy, dark blue smoke.

'Z-Zoë? Zoë!' Elora's heart trembled. She knew a burst of magical attack-energy when she saw it, and there had been too many times in the past that she had heard it heading in her best friend's direction. She started batting away clouds of blue smoke desperately with her hands, trying to find Zoë in the muttering mess.

And then the clouds simply… _cleared away_, as quickly as if a small tornado had swept through the room. Zoë was still standing (or rather hovering) where she had been a moment ago, only now her wand hand was held out in front of her, a trail of blue smoke emanating from the tip. Elora looked down. A small lump of metal lay on the ground in front of them, also smouldering with the afterglow of Zoë's defensive magic.

A magic bullet: a single burst of highly-concentrated explosive energy, the kind they used in the Zephyr-Harbour skirmishes, or that came out of Ripto's old sceptre.

Oh, _Ancestors_.

Elora's brain lurched out of synch with her body, wanting desperately to do something before she had worked out what that something could be. Zoë already had her wand in the air again, her whole arm sparkling with dangerous looking blue light. The figure, still standing on the other side of the room, lifted its wand and fired again, this time at Elora who barely shifted in time to avoid the flying missile which, instead, crashed into –and blew up– several empty chairs on her left. Guests started shrieking, Zoë started shooting back, and one of the Zephyrian's uttered a sound which sounded worryingly like a call for attack.

'Not a Breeze Builder!' Elora heard Zoë shrieking. 'Elora, he's not! He's not a real Breeze Builder!'

'I _know_!' Elora yelled. Even as they stared at him, the beings "feathers" started falling away from his arms and legs, like a full-body costume being pulled away. It was probably a magically created disguise, now breaking down upon discovery. Where once had been a beak a muzzle formed and a strange looking being peered out at Elora through bright, beady yellow eyes.

The fact that a heap of honeyed hazelnuts fell out of the creature's pockets as his disguise disintegrated just clinched it.

And then, just as Elora had predicted, all heck did indeed break loose.

* * *

More than anything else, it was weird.

The wedding dress, that was.

Not that Bianca hadn't worn dresses before; sure she had. They were convenient and practical in most situations, but _this_… this wasn't even really a _dress_, it was more like an experiment in just how much you could spend putting together one piece of material. Material which was quite obviously the finest gem-encrusted silk that you could find this side of the realm. Probably fairy-made. The undercoats might've been fairy-made, too, but she wouldn't know.

Being an apprentice of the magical arts had its drawbacks. One of them was that you splashed out on spell books far more willingly than clothing, and on potions ingredients as opposed to jewellery. Bianca's mind kept trying to calculate how many bottles of Dragonfly Ether-Powder she could've purchased with what the same amount of money her necklace cost to make. She lost count at about fifty.

Sooner or later, she was going to have to ask where all the money came from for this. She's pretty sure that saving the world doesn't cover these kinds of expenses, and the sorceress had never paid _her_.

'And are you quite _sure _you don't have anymore guests coming, Bianca?'

'I'm sure. There's none that I know of anyway,' Bianca answered. Then she waited patiently for the question she knew was coming next. She'd been asked it a lot so far this week.

'Oh… but Bianca, surely your parents…'

'Will most certainly _not_ be showing up, Professor,' Bianca clipped on the diamond (Glass? Crystal? Whatever it was) necklace, having given up trying to work out its monetary value. It felt lighter than a necklace like that really _should_ have felt. 'Trust me; it's better that they don't actually know about this. Having a daughter who decides to work in the magical arts under the world's most ruthless tyrant is one thing –heck, they could even admire my sense of ambition there. But an inter-species marriage? Now _that's_ one step too far for them.'

The professor seemed to sigh sympathetically. 'Ah yes, I recall a similar issue when it came to an old friend of mine… Fell in love with a _Rhynoc_, of all people. Didn't do him much good in the end, of course, but this is a rather different state of affairs… The principles are merely the same. I was always puzzled by such things on a fundamental level, degrees in magical physics and all, if that helps…'

'See? I knew you'd understand.'

'Well, thank you. Are we ready yet?'

'Not yet. I'm still trying to work out what the heck I'm supposed to _do_ with half of this stuff. Why do weddings have to be so complicated?'

'That's the nature of them, I suppose. Take all the time you need, dear, I must say I expect the congregation will wait for you. Though I do wish some of your family might have attended, I can't help feeling that _this_ duty should be the privilege of someone else.'

Bianca felt herself smiling again. 'Well, don't,' she called back through the door. 'I'm _glad_ it's you professor, and I couldn't imagine it being anyone else. It's not so bad… they only would've gotten worked up about things anyway… Most of my family are immigrants from other worlds and apparently can't get here for the wedding, not that I _knew_ many of them well, anyway… there _is_ my Aunt Methusarah, who's really my second-cousin-seven-times-removed, but she doesn't like being called that.'

The professor's tone seemed to brighten. 'Well, that sounds promising enough, what about her?'

Bianca checked her shoes. If "shoes" was really the right word for them. What the heck was the point of those… well, _points_, on the heels, anyway? And exactly how did she _walk_ in the things? 'Can't come either. Apparently her _rainbow_ was out being _serviced_ today.'

'Ah.' This time the pause lasted for at least half a minute. Which, given how quickly the professor tended to process and analyse information, was quite something. 'Precisely how many of your family members "_Rainbow's are out being serviced_" today, Bianca?'

Bianca sighed and took a step forwards, wobbling slightly. She really should've practised walking in the things, but how was _she_ supposed to know that wedding shoes were so insanely unpractical? 'In reality? None of them, I expect, seeing as magical rainbows aren't exactly the kind of things you can _get_ serviced and none of my family until me could even control theirs anyway.'

'But…' The professor trailed off uncertainly, though Bianca had no doubt he was smart enough to figure out what she meant.

'It's called _discreet disownment_, professor. It's something families tend to do when you start getting involved with world-ruling dictators who promise to teach you how to control your magic. Oh, and then there was power. She promised me _that_, too. To be honest, I was kind of _fond_ of the power.'

'…Oh.'

Actually, now that she'd gotten into her stride, the heeled shoes really weren't so hard to walk in. It was all a question of putting your toes down first and allowing the rest of the foot to follow. Still, Bianca thought, she'd rather be back in her old wool dress and cape. She'd _met_ Hunter in that dress after all (well, she'd been wearing it under the cloak), and it'd been good enough for her then. Never mind the fact that the thought of Hunter wearing _any_ clothing at all was a really, _really_ peculiar one. Not to mention those absolutely _ridiculous_ wing decorations someone had made Spyro clip on…

'I bet he's panicking,' she mumbled, mostly to herself, but still loudly enough to be heard outside. Her sentence was followed by a rather loud "_crash_!" No doubt the professor knocking over yet another statue. For some reason there were an awful lot of vases and statues in the room next door for a building that had very little furniture at all in most of the other rooms, and the professor seemed to be really good at breaking them.

'Ow! Ach, blast it... Who would that be, exactly?'

'Hunter,' Bianca sighed. 'Trust me, he's panicking. Right _now_, as a matter of fact. He always panics at big occasions and you don't really get much bigger than this.'

'Well, the End of the World Itself might possibly qualify,' the Professor suggested.

'Oh, he panics before _those_, too, though not as much as before the big speedway races.'

'_That_ I can quite comfortably believe.' There was a smile in the professor's tone. They both knew Hunter could convince himself the world was ending if a race was cancelled.

'I'm not saying that it won't be fine,' Bianca added quickly, finally working out that the golden thing she now held in her hand was supposed to be an _armlet_ and not something that went over her ears. These damn things should've come with instruction manuals, or something. 'I just… I'm _not_ saying that. It'll be okay, once he gets over the initial… shock… heck, once _we_ get over the initial shock.'

'As I have no doubt he will. Take it from a person who knows you both well, my dear. And Hunter isn't the only one prone to nervousness in these parts, wouldn't you agree?'

Bianca frowned. 'What's that supposed to mean? I'm not _nervous_.'

The professor chuckled lightning. 'Now Bianca, you've been in that room for an entire _three hours_ and even before that, I spotted you attempting to practise basic encouragement spells in the foyer. It doesn't take to be a genius to work out.'

Bianca opened her mouth to retort, but was interrupted before she could speak a word, by the sound of yet another loud crashing noise. She sighed and rolled her eyes. No wonder going into the professor's labs when he was performing a delicate experiment was believed to be a fool's errant. There were going to be no vases left at this rate.

…Except that this particular crashing noise had seemed awfully _loud_ to just have come from the professor knocking over one of the vases.

In fact, now Bianca actually felt the ground _tremble_. A soft, low rumble under her feet, travelling right through the marble flooring. She frowned intently. 'Professor, is something wrong out there?'

There was a pause, a commotion of jabbering voices she couldn't make out and the sound of someone racing along a corridor. The professor didn't answer for what felt like a very long time. 'Professor?'

And then there it was again –another deep, rumbling, clashing noise, louder than the last one had been. The familiar sensation of nearby magic had started to tremble in Bianca's chest. A very _powerful_ magic, at that.

'Ah, well,' the professor eventually spoke with a nervous stammer. 'I uh... Bianca, dear? I'm… that is to say, I'm well aware that Hunter is acquainted with many people from the Avalarian world of Zephyr, but did you by any chance invite any _Breeze Builders_ to the ceremony?'

'…Breeze Builders? No.' Bianca started, feeling the steadily sinking sensation in her stomach pool right down into her boots.

She didn't want to ask, but she did. '…Why?'

* * *

_The portal reopening at the other end (it _is_ the other end, isn't it? Ancestors, he _hopes_ it's the other end already…) feels kind of his first landing did, when he'd mastered the art of flying, but not of returning to the ground again. First your stomach seemed to vanish altogether, then your own weight dragged you downwards and before you knew it, you were crashing into the ground, making a huge dent in the process, with absolutely no understanding of how you had been defying the law of gravity earlier. _

_Yeah. This landing kind of felt like that. But he could still feel Sparx's wings flickering against his, so at least he was alright and…_

'…_Spyro? Spyro, buddy, you alright, you just… I mean _we_ just… aw, man, what the heck _was_ that?' _

_Spyro doesn't answer for a moment. mostly because he still has his eyes screwed shut and therefore can't see what Sparx is obviously seeing right now. His chest is _really_ starting to hurt. A serious, agonizing, swamp-spider-poison-ain't-a-patch-on-this-type pain. It's the pain caused by an incredible amount of static, and the energy that portal must've dragged out of him during his unexpected journey through it. Not to mention whatever the hell that Gorilla had hit him with just before he came through the portal, and…_

_Oh. Right. That was what just happened, wasn't it? _

_Sparx is tugging on his wing the way he does when he's feeling nervous. Or afraid. Or possibly a combination of the two. 'Seriously, bro, are you alright? That looks like it _hurts_…' _

_Spyro's first reaction is to say "yes": to hide it, the way he always used to when they were just little kids. He supposes it was a brother thing -always trying to act so tough and brave around each other, but it's a habit that has carried over into the present. Still it's actually kind of hard to hide a glowing, red hold in your chest and… _

'Aw, _man_ this is _not_ good, this… Okay. Okay, do as Sparx said, Spyro. Keep it together. Close your eyes, take deep breaths, pretend it doesn't hurt…'

'_S-Spyro? I uh… Yeah, I really think you should take a look at this. Seriously, get it together, man!'_

_He's wide awake now, but he doesn't have to tell Sparx that. The fact that the dragonfly has calmed down enough not to be freaking out about the wound in Spyro's chest anymore tells Spyro that Sparx's attention has been attracted by another, more immediate problem. He just has to actually convince his eyes to open and the world to come into focus and now he's _almost_ on his feet…_

_Then he _hears_ it. He hadn't even realised until that moment that things had been so _noisy_, as all he'd seemed able to hear was Sparx's voice and the pounding sound inside of his own chest. He sees the scattering people and broken chairs, the flying bursts of magic all around him and the battle that certainly isn't the one he had been in just before the portal opened, but which seems no less chaotic and dangerous. Somebody is yelling in a tongue he doesn't understand. There is something which sounds rather like a seagull's caw, only a thousand times louder and all he can hear is a barrage of insults being thrown left and right across the room. _

'_Breeze Builder!' _

'_Bamboozler!'_

'_Simpleton!' _

'_Enemy!' . _

_And then he hears a more familiar sound, the cry of one of the dark master's servants drowning the other insults. 'Purple dragon! _Purple_! Forget them, forget them all, just _destroy it_!' _

_Finally, Spyro is beginning to understand something about what's going on. He just doesn't like what he's seeing.

* * *

_


	4. Sabotage and Influence

**Yup. Still going. Possibly against my better judgement. **

**I'm not entirely happy with the layout of this - the chapters feel too long, clunky, unsophisticated in some places and overly-complex in others, but to make the chapters any shorter would've meant I'd probably be up to chapter twelve or something rediculous like that by now and I'm not trying to write an epic here. **

**Still, reviews and concrit are appreciated. Standard disclaimers apply. **

**

* * *

**

Chapter Four: Sabotage and Influence. 

In the days and weeks that followed, Elora would never be able to say for sure who it was that had fired first (or really, who had fired _second_, if you counted the intruder), but in the end it hardly mattered. What mattered was the total bedlam that broke out because of it.

It wasn't just speciesist mockery and insults any more. This was actually an all out _brawl_ being waged right in the middle of the temple, and none of the Breeze Builders or the Zephyrians seemed to care who had started it.

Elora stifled a groan between her teeth as she hurried to the nearest doorway, trying to usher the remaining guests out of the building as quickly as possible. Not that they really _needed_ any help. Most of them were finding the exits quite easily (and quickly) on their own. The battles between Zephyr and Breeze Harbour were legendary for all the wrong reasons. Practically everyone in Avalar knew what to expect should the two of them decide to break out the militia anywhere nearby. 

To make matters worse, it didn't take long for the magical energies to start flying. The saboteur had apparently set off several red energy charges which were bouncing back and forth around the room like pinballs in a giant machine, causing everything they touched to explode in flameless heat.

Elora ducked behind a chair to avoid the onslaught, cursing her own stupidity as she did so. A creepy guy walking around in cape and hood? How could she _not_ have realised he was probably up to something? 'Urgh, damn it, I _knew_ I should've hired bodyguards!'

'And stretched the budget _again_?' Zoë exclaimed. She had positioned herself close to Elora's side, acting as a very peculiar kind of bodyguard herself. Just as well, Elora realised. Fauns didn't have a drop of magic in their bodies and the odds were she would've been in serious trouble without Zoë there to ward off the incoming explosives. 'We were already maxed out on booking the hall!'

'Well if we _had_ then this probably wouldn't have happened in the first place, Zoë— _duck_!'

Zoë backed down behind a fallen chair with a yelp as another spell flew straight over their heads. Elora scowled. Since when had Zephyr gotten its hands on _magical weapons_? While there was _supposed_ to be a cease-fire in progress?

Elora grabbed Zoë around the waist in what the fairy would probably later complain was a very undignified manner, and made a break for the door beneath the flying pinballs, which most of the skirmishers didn't seem to notice –they were far too busy beating each other up and calling each other every name they could think of. Elora quickly pulled Zoë back behind a nearby doorframe before letting her go. ('Yeek! Elora, the _wings_, watch the wings!'

'Sorry, sorry!')

Agent Nine and Sheila reappeared at that point, having chosen to stand behind the same doorway. Far from being worried however, Agent Nine seemed to be fairly amused by the whole thing. 'Heeey there, whaddyaknow? Things are actually starting to liven up around here! What happened, goat girl, who started it?'

Elora struggled to drag the heavy door closed, trying to minimize damage to the rest of the building. 'Urgh, Agent Nine this is really _not_ a good moment.'

'Aw, why not? It looks like we're having the party early! _Now_ can I have my laser gun?'

'No!' Sheila, Elora and Zoë all exclaimed in unison.

'…Just askin'.'

Elora caught her breath while trying to peer through a gap in the door. As she watched, a Breeze Builder and a Zephyrian who had just been at each others throats were quite literally _shoved_ apart by two huge, pawed hands, as Bentley made his way through the crowd with a force comparable to a rather courteous steamroller (Elora swore she could hear him _apologising_ to everyone he was shoving out of the way.)

'Pardon me, sir, _pardon_ me, might I… oh, do remove yourself from my conduit, sir! I am attempting to navigate the… Excuse me! Elora? Miss Elora, I am unable to exact your location! Please attempt to define your position and convey it to my person!'

Figuring that this probably meant "where the heck are you and how can I get there?" Elora risked pushing her head through the door. 'We're over here, Bentley!' she yelled over the crowd, and immediately wished she hadn't. Bentley was a rather large individual after all, and he easily cleared a path through the warring wedding attendants, sending many of them flying in the process. As if things weren't bad enough already.

'Ah, _there_ you are,' Bentley nodded understandingly, as if he'd simply been looking for them on the beach or something. He balanced a large, glassy-coloured club (ancestors only knew where he'd been keeping that) over his shoulder as he shoved his way through the partly opened door.

('_Where the heck are people _finding_ all of these weapons? Did they have them hidden under the floorboards or something_?!')

'Hey, big guy,' Agent Nine grinned. 'Check it out! We've got a total hoo-hah out there! Ain't it cool?'

'Yes Agent Nine, I noticed. What a frankly _extraordinary_ panorama,' Bentley shook his head in disbelief. 'From courteous and expectant tranquillity to absolute anarchy in fewer than five minutes. Elora, might I be as bold as to enquire the exact _nature_ of this quandary's origin?'

'You could try, Bentley,' Elora gasped, pulling the door shut again. 'But I really don't think I could tell you. It just sort of… _happened_.'

'Seems to me like somebody decided goin' _kablooey_ would be more fun than sitting around and chatting.' Agent Nine grinned. Elora felt gladder than ever that she hadn't given him his laser gun. 'These are my kinda people.'

'Yeah. If you _like_ petty thuggery,' Zoë said, finally catching her breath after Elora unsubtly grabbing her stomach. 'We're not sure but we… we think someone's out to screw up the wedding.'

'A saboteur?' Bentley blinked. 'But… now? Here?'

'Yup,' Zoë said. 'Throwing explosive bombs. _And_ honeyed hazelnuts. One of them almost hit me. Good job I always keep a defence spell at the ready, since that whole thing with Gulp… And then of course the Breeze Builders and Zephyrians started playing up and… well. You know,' she shrugged. 'Domino effect.'

'But… A hostile outbreak of these proportions during a ceremony of courtship and perpetual dedication? A _battle_, at such a consecrated ritual?' The already rather large Bentley seemed almost to increase in size in his anger. 'Why those _heinous_ hellions!'

Agent Nine shuffled. 'Man, okay, so maybe these _aren't _my kinda people_.' _

'I figured,' Elora said dryly, feeling momentarily glad that Agent Nine apparently did have some semblance of understanding when it came to sacred ceremonies…

'Yeah, I mean if Iwas gonna crash a party like this, I'd have at least waited around until they brought out the _food_!'

…Or maybe not.

'It _is_ odd…' Bentley said, seeming to calm down a little, even as another explosion shook the floor beneath them. It sounded like one of the magic pinballs had hit something important. 'I had presumed that there were approximately only a dozen Breeze Builders and Zephyrians in the vicinity. I wouldn't have assumed such a small number could cause such pandemonium… and _who_ precisely was it that ignited those magical projectiles?'

'I think that was our saboteur,' Elora swallowed. 'I've never seen any magic like it. Whatever those magical pinballs are, I _don't_ wanna be in the same room as them.'

'Magic pinballs? Cool, lemme see!' Agent Nine scrambled around Elora to get a better look around the still partly open door. Most people opted for ignoring him.

'Elora we have to stop this,' Zoë snapped. 'One of the Breeze Builder's nearly took out my left wing! It's _already_ a bad wing after Crush! The guests are all over the place and I can't even tell what's going on anymore. What's this all _about_?

'The same thing it's _always_ about, Zoë, them and there pointless, endless fighting.'

'Uh, ladies, not that I wanna interrupt, but…'

'Not now, Agent Nine,' Elora snapped. Then she redirected her attention at Zoë, trying to ignore the rumble of explosives in the next room. 'If you have ideas I'd love to hear them. One thing I've learned about those two is that if you can't talk them out of whatever they're about to do in ten minutes then things have already gone too far and all you can do is get out of their way.'

'So… maybe that's what we should be doing?' Sheila said. 'I mean, I'm pretty sure it's been longer than ten minutes.'

'But this is such an inconsequential dissolution,' Bentley argued. 'What could have possible caused such distress at an entirely inoffensive ceremonial procedure?'

'As I've already said, I have no idea,' Elora sighed. 'All I know is someone started throwing nuts.'

'Nuts?' For once, Bentley seemed lost for words. 'Pardon me, but… As in…'

'As in the sugared confectionary we give to the guests before they leave,' Zoë said, blinking slightly at how easily she had assimilated Bentley's language. 'I guess they'll just have to go home with cake… assuming the cake's still alright.'

Bentley shifted his club nervously from one hand to the other, as if preparing to hit something with it. 'Oh dear…'

'Hey guys,' Agent Nine interrupted with a cough. 'I mean it; you should probably take a look at—'

'Pipe down, Nine,' Sheila gave him a prod with her food. 'But seriously, mates, you're telling me this all started over a few _nuts_ being thrown about?'

'They've started fights over dumber things.'

'Uh, Elora?' Agent Nine coughed. 'Roo? Anyone?'

'Agent Nine whatever it is, not _now_,' Elora snapped, before turning back to Sheila. 'Hunter lived in Zephyr for a while during the campaign. That's probably why they're invited, but I have no idea what the Breeze Builders are doing here. I'm sure they wouldn't have invited them to the same placeHunter's just not that dumb.'

'…Super intelligent monkey trying to say something here?'

'Agent Nine!'

'Okay, okay, _fine _already!' Agent Nine grumbled, throwing his hands in the air. 'Deal with the creepy shadow monsters that just started tearin' up the hall without me!'

Elora sighed, at first not realising what he had said. 'Look, Agent Nine I _know_ you have attention issues but you have to… what creepy shadow guys?'

'Y'heard me, lady, creepy, shadowy, stuff like that –they're kinda invading the hall right now,' Agent Nine pointed at the door and Elora nervously peered around it.

As she did, she suddenly realised that the situation has escalated. No longer was it simply a case of Breeze Builders and Zephyrians throwing whatever impromptu magic's and threats they could at each other. There were _other_ _things_ in the hall now, a great many of them, all looking rather like the saboteur had, right down to their beady yellow eyes and ragged purple cloaks, which Elora could see now weren't really _cloaks_ at all, but were more like _wings_, folded and curled around them in a cloak-like manner.

Their presence made Elora feel much the same way as she had seeing Ripto for the first time, when he arrived in Avalar via the Super Portal. You didn't have to ask questions, you didn't have to know where they came from or _why_ they had come, you simply _knew_ that something about them was wrong and repellentTheir very auras pulsed with the kind of malevolence even a non-magical creature like a faun could feel. 'What in the _world_…'

'See? Toldya there was something weird going on,' Agent Nine said, smugly.

A few moments later, Elora shot backwards several feet, as a streak of energy landed close to the other side of the door. The bolts of magic these new creatures were throwing around were deep and black in colour and burned whenever they hit the ground. Asides from the occasional Zephyrian and Breeze Builder who happened to get in the way, these new creatures' only target appeared to be the temple itself. They were _destroying_ the place, one pillar at a time, and Elora had no idea why.

'Holy jiminy, it's like the freak show came early!' Agent Nine whistled through his teeth as everyone scrambled to get a better look through the open crack in the door. 'What the heck have those Rhynocs been eating?'

'…Um. Hey there, guys. Something wrong?'

Everyone jumped.

Pulling herself away from the hole in the door, Elora turned. There was Hunter. In full wedding garb and _without_ his bow and arrow.

Just _great_.

'Um…' Elora felt her voice becoming a squeak and wasn't sure if it had more to do with what she was trying to hide on the other side of the door, or what the heck Hunter was _wearing_. The whole situation was beginning to feel like a story from the "_Weird Happenings and Creepy_ _Disasters_" book she'd read in the Professor's library as a child. '…Hello Hunter.'

'… Hi, sorry about the clothes and all… I know you're kinda not used to seeing me in this stuff, it's just that— hey, Agent Nine get _off_ that!' Hunter was distracted by Agent Nine deciding to get a closer look at his wedding garb.

'Whoaaa, hey, man, check out the _threads_, where'd you get this stuff, Moneyba—'

'Agent Nine, not _now_!_' _

Agent Nine scowled. '…You know, I hate when people tell me that. _Really_ hate it. And I'm hearin' it a _lot_ today.'

Hunter sighed. 'So… Spyro and me heard a noise when we were back there, and… we were wondering what's going on in the ceremony hall? It sounded kind of like an explosion. A _big_ explosion. Like a Zephyr Jade Bomb, for example.'

'Oh… _yes_,' Elora coughed. 'Ah… sorry about that and all, we're just… um… well… where _is_ Spyro?'

Hunter raised an eyebrow, and Elora felt her face changing to what must've been the same colour as Spyro's scales. 'He's going around to the other door… And you know that it's usually _me_ apologising to _you_ about the mess, not the other way around, right?'

Elora, in spite of everything, actually managed a nervous laugh. 'Uh, yeah. Heh. I know. First time for everything, huh?'

'I guess… So um, why're you blocking the door?'

Elora braced herself against the doorframe a little in a rather amusing parody of her usual self and cast urgent looks around for support.

'Blocking?' Zoë piped. 'Oh, well she… She's not _blocking_ the door, we're just… um… we're…'

'Guarding it.' Sheila said, quickly.

'Yes! Yes, we're guarding it.'

'Oh. Guarding it from what?'

'Well…'

'The Rhynocs,' Sheila came to the rescue again. 'You know, those creepy little rhino blighters, that're always bothering us? Yeah we uh… we figured we might just keep the defences up and stop them. Getting in. By covering the door and… stuff.'

Hunter looked at Sheila. Then at the door. Then back at Elora. 'But… that's the door _into_ the ceremony hall. Aren't I meant to be getting married in there?'

'Um, yeah. Yeah, you are.'

'So if you're guarding _that_ door then that means…' Hunter blinked several times and Elora's stomach sank. 'Oh, holy Avalar, there are _Rhynocs_ in the ceremony hall?!'

'No, no!' Elora said quickly, 'that is, I… not _exactly_. It's just. Well…'

'I ah… I believe what our comrade is attempting to elucidate, Hunter, is that there are not, in fact, any examples of the genus _Rhynocian Impatian_ on the adjacent side of this entryway, but there _are_ some rather volatile forces of seemingly paranormal origin that may endeavour to do us great mischief should they encounter us.' Bentley said.

'…Meaning?' Hunter asked.

'Meaning there are monsters on the other side of the door,' Zoë clarified. 'And it's probably not a very good idea to go in there unless your name is Spyro.'

'Freaks?' Hunter gulped. 'W-wait, hang on, define "_monsters_" for me here, I… what're they doing? What about the guests? Why don't we go in there and stop—'

His attempt to open the door was prevented by Elora grabbing his wrist. All of sudden, she found herself longing for a return to the days when Hunter wouldn't have said "excuse me" quietly to a goose, let alone shout "boo!" 'Hunter, wait! Seriously the guests are _fine_ though… I don't think the Zephyrians and Breeze Builders are. I don't think they're still in there but they _could_ be… and they're probably what started this whole mess in the first place. Don't ask me _how,_ it happened to quickly to register, there's magic flying all over the place and you _don't _want to go in there.'

'Yes I do.'

'No, you _don't_.'

'No, I really doElora, what's going on—'

This was the moment that Hunter succeeded in pulling her hand away and opening the door. He only managed to get it halfway before the pressure of the noise on the other side forced him back, several magic bullets flying over his head. Hunter slammed the door shut, eyes going wide. 'Uh… what was _that_?'

'That would be the reason we told you not to open the door,' Zoë said.

Hunter stood staring at the door for a moment. Then he coughed. 'Oh-kay. Elora, I know it probably isn't fair of me to sort of… you know, just expect _you_ to provide all the answers about just what the heck has happened to the wedding, but what the _heck has happened to the wedding_?!'

'Beats us,' Sheila said. 'There's no more explanation for this than there _ever_ is for fights between _those_ two! Oh, but there was a saboteur, apparently. Some freaky guy in a cloak.'

'The saboteur, wait, he's still out there!' Elora yelped, suddenly realising they'd let the troublemaker of this whole mess disappear. If they didn't catch him they had no hope of finding out what this was all about.

Throwing the door open on the chaos, she found it to have calmed down not a jot in comparison to before. Ancestors help them if one of the monks that worked in the temple decided to check on the proceedings. Elora glanced urgently from side to side, but there was no sign of the saboteur anywhere and a few seconds later Hunter's hand was on her arm pulling her back inside the doorway.

And not a moment too soon, as a Rhynoc/creature/whatever-it-was was hit the wall exactly where Elora had been standing a moment earlier. It staggered to its feet, snapping a mouth that looked horribly like a beak, and yet horribly unlike one at the same time. Having seen it close up, Elora now realised that it didn't even look entirely _solid_. Its flesh shimmered at the edges of its body, as if it were semi-transparent, like a jewel, except ugly. She caught a whiff of a smell which resembled age and time and old, old libraries.

'Elora!' Hunter snapped. 'Jeeze, what're you _doing_? Leave this to the magic users and the ones that know how to shoot stuff!'

'T-that was a _ghost_!' Elora swallowed. 'In the hall, it was… I mean… at least I think it was.'

'Elora what're you talking about?'

'I mean that that Rhynoc wasn't _solid_, Hunter!' Elora gaped. 'I could see through it!'

'You could… see through it. Oh-kay, I think we've hit the nadirs of weird here,' Zoë swallowed.

'I would be loathe to presume that they _are_ Rhynocs,' Bentley said, evenly. 'I would also suggest that it would indeed be a wise course of action to remove them from the premises, as hastily and entirely as is possible.'

'What, you mean there's something _else_ out there we've gotta fight?' Agent Nine gawked. 'Enough of this, already, man, we've gotta get out there and start takin' the freaky things out! Where's my _laser blaster_?'

Elora grit her teeth, trying to find that calm, reasonably voice inside of her that she always called on in times like this. 'Agent Nine, _look_, if we do anymore damage to this place, the monks will probably have us banned, and don't get me started on who could've gotten hurt by now, if we hadn't evacuated so quickly.'

'Yeah how about _us_ for example? Which is exactly why I _really need my laser gun!_'

'Agent Nine, I'm _not_ giving you the laser!' Elora snapped, shivering as the old-age smell of the ghost creatures drifted past her again, like a whisper in a bad dream. 'The last time we let you loose anywhere with that thing, Bianca spent an entire week formulating spells to turn your _tail_ back _into_ a tail!'

'How was I supposed t'know those damn Tomb Guards took their curses so seriously? _C'mon, Curse of the Snake Tail_? Who the heck was gonna believe _that_ was real? Besides I only broke a _couple_'_a_ statues.'

'Aw, man, Bianca!' Hunter's jaw dropped. 'She's still at the other end of the building, right?'

'Yeah, what if she doesn't know this is happening?' Sheila asked, worriedly.

'Trust me,' Hunter said. 'She knows. I bet she's on her way here right now!'

'Well that's cool, right?' Agent Nine suggested.

'I admit our primate friend may have a point,' Bentley said. 'Bianca is undoubtedly the most practised amongst us in paranormal repartee and…'

'No, no!' Hunter exclaimed, urgently. 'Not _that_ I'm not supposed to _see_ her before the ceremony!'

Agent Nine cocked his head to one side. The ground trembled again. 'Say what now? Sure ya are! You've already seen her before the ceremony. You've seen her every day before the ceremony for like, the last five years! You're _always _lookin'at her, that's why we're _doing_ all the boring ceremony stuff in the first place.'

'But it's the rules! If I go out there and see her before the music starts, then we'll jinx it and the whole marriage will go down the toilet!' Hunter slapped a paw against his forehead. 'Aw man, the freaky shadow… freaks are freaking jinxing my freaking wedding!'

'Yeeeah. You can tell she ain't marrying ya for your diction, Hunter. Seriously, can we get out there and fight already?'

'Nine's got a point,' Zoë swallowed, 'we can't just let them wreck the place, and Spyro and Bianca will probably be out there any minute, we have to go and help them.'

'I think we know just how much our _helping out_ has accomplished so far today, Zoë,' Elora groaned.

'Yeah, yeah we know, but that was _talking_, this is kicking creepy shadow guy butt!' Agent Nine pointed out.

'But…' Hunter swallowed. 'Bianca! What if she sees me? The rules—!'

'Rules _shmules_, big-cat boy, this is uproar and calamity we're talking about. If you can survive that you can survive a marriage!'

Zoë shook her head, bracing herself as another rumble shook the hall. Elora had no idea what caused it that time. 'L-look, Elora, given the circumstances I… actually think it might be better if we _did_ give Agent Nine his laser gun…'

'Yes! _Thank you_, Fairy girl!'

'Uh, no,' Elora scowled 'No way. It's bad enough as it is.'

'Elora seriously,' Zoë said. 'It can't get any worse. They're shooting at everything anyway, so what's… one more laser in a dozen?'

'Alright, alright, fine,' Elora sighed, surrendering to the inevitable and looking at Agent Nine. 'It's in the third room up from this corridor, inside of a chest which is locked inside another chest, for which the key is hidden in the room across the hall inside a jade statue of a Buddha under a table, go get it before I change my mind.'

She regretted it almost the moment she said it. Agent Nine let out a whooping noise and turned tail into the hallway. 'Aw, man, you won't regret this Elora! Blastin' time! Bring on the big guns!'

'Just for the record,' Elora muttered, pausing to give her companions another hard stare. 'It's not _my_ fault if he blows up anything important. Where were we?'

'We were about to go out there and stop the monsters ruining the wedding,' Hunter said.

'Blimey,' Sheila muttered. 'And here I was thinking we'd be doing something _different_ today, guys.'

Zoë smiled wryly, tugging out her want and blowing a few golden sparks from its tip. Elora took a deep breath, trying to think what use she could possibly be once they got back inside the hall and hoping Spyro was out there already. 'Alright… alright, let's get on with this before Agent Nine comes back with his laser… on the count of three. One… two…'

'Three!' Zoë shouted impatiently, as Sheila let out a hefty kick. The door splintered and burst open, and suddenly they were back in the hall, stepping right out into the chaos and dodging magical projectiles from all sides.

_'So much for gaining the element of surprise,'_ Elora thought as her friends joined the chaotic mess that used to be a temple wedding ceremony hall.

She had a distinct feeling that they wouldn't be getting their deposits back.

* * *

By the time Spyro, with Sparx in tow, had reached the corridor leading back into the hall (which took a surprisingly long time, given how easy it was to get lost), the chaos had already escalated to breaking point.

They heard the battle long before they saw it, and felt the ground rumble several more times on their way. From the sound of it, whoever it was that had started the fight had also managed to get their hands on explosives.

**_'Breeze Builders and Zephyr, huh? In the _same room_?'_** Sparx chirruped in Dragonic. The previously rather quiet dragonfly was nattering constantly the entire way back through the temple. His dragonfly senses must've been going haywire, Spyro thought. Dragonflies sensed magical energy far more easily than dragons did. If Sparx had been a little more awake at the time, he probably would surely have sensed this attack coming long before it did.

**_'Uhuh.' _**

****

**_'And you just _left_ 'em there? Are you _**_crazy**, partner? They're **_**Zephyr and Breeze Harbour_!' _**

****

**_'I know, Sparx, I know!' _**Spyro thought back as he raced down the corridor in what he hoped was the right direction (he was actually following the racket).**_ 'I thought Elora was dealing with it, heck, she always managed before.' _**

**_'Great. Wonderful. So just for the record, this isn't our fault, Spyro, whatever it is.' _**

****

**_'Sure it's not. We'll just blame whoever wrote the invites, right?' _**

****

**_'I'm good with that plan.'_ **

Spyro took the final corner at a run and had to skid to a rather sharp halt as he finally arrived at thehall. ****

By this point, anyone who had magical powers seemed to be going at it for all they were worth, Zephyrians were trying to get at the Breeze Builders with their pot-helmets, somebody (he had no idea who) was clearly throwing jade bombs around, and guests had scattered left, right and centre, judging by the mess of collapsed chairs and tables. There also appeared to be several very magical orbs shooting around the room like rubber balls, and Spyro was fairly sure that was Bentley's club he just saw smacking a Rhynoc around the face…

**_'Hang on a sec, Rhynocs? What're they… why're _they_ here?!' _**

**_'…I don't suppose they're bringing gifts?'_** Sparx suggested hopefully, flitting back and fourth.

They had apparently gone from vague disquiet to a raging battle in less than five minutes flat. Even for them, that was some achievement. **_'Uh… I don't think so, Sparx. We have to stop them, look what they're doing to the place!' _**

**_'Has anyone checked on the food?' _**

****

**_'Forget the _food_, somebody's going to get hurt!' _**

****

**_'Alright, alright! Kicking Rhynoc butt it is, then?' _**

****

Spyro spurted a jet of smoke from his nose on impulse deciding that whatever and however this whole mess had started wasn't really important anymore.** _'And then some. Cover me?'_**

****

**_'Always do.' _**

Spyro grinned wryly before charging blindly into the room and immediately coming under onslaught of no less than three Rhynoc-creatures and several magical beams of energy, all hell bent on tearing him to pieces.

**_'Just another ordinary day in Avalar, then,'_** Sparx sighed.

* * *

Elora, using her head, had stayed back and armed herself with the leg of a chair as soon as they emerged back into the hallway.

Very few of their little ragtag group actually had magical powers in the first place, though they made a good attempt anyway. Even Hunter who, as usual, looked pretty damn terrified of the things he was trying to destroy. Within twenty seconds Elora could hear the sound of gems clinking to the floor as the Rhynoc creatures dissolved back into their birth-form. .She knew she couldn't take on anything magical; the best she could do was keep low and hope not to get hit. She cursed as one of the monsters seemed to lunge at her, for no other reason than that she was _there_. Fortunately Zoë was continuing with her bodyguard routine and had put up a defence between the faun and the ape, blasting it away with a bolt of electricity from her wand when it tried to get near. Another one which had been going for her was taken out by a thrown chair, courtesy of Hunter.

'Hey, Elora! What do you know! I told ya it was a good idea to rent the expensive cha— awk!'

Elora winced. It was apparently by complete luck that the next creature to try and take Hunter on ran into the chair leg first and fell to the ground with a squawk of pain.

'Hunter! Will you watch what you're doing?! This is a _battle_ not a—'

She trailed off as she realised that Hunter had stopped dead in his tracks. He wasn't looking at her, but was staring off in one direction. This was really a pretty silly thing to be doing in the middle of a fight with enemies on every side. He didn't; however, seem to care about the enemies.

Elora followed the line of his gaze to where he was staring –and there was Bianca, chanting under her breath and dressed in what appeared to be a very expensive yellow dress. She actually looked rather lovely, given the circumstances, spinning a rainbow between her fingertips before throwing it at a nearby Rhynoc and lassoing it out of her path. As she did this, she too, turned to face them, eyes blazing with defiance.

…And ended up looking right at Hunter.

Well, Elora thought; she supposed they'd known it was going to happen. Bianca looked at Hunter. Hunter looked at Bianca. Then both of them ducked their eyes at exactly the same time and seemed to swear under their breaths. A part of Elora almost wanted to laugh at the symmetry. Bianca, seeming eager to avoid his gaze, quickly turned back to the Rhynoc she had been attacking and pummelled it with several fire bolts.

'Aw, man!' Hunter groaned. 'Great! Just _perfect_! _Now_ we're in trouble…'

'Hunter, look around,' Elora swallowed, ducking under a flying stream of energy. On the bright side, the magic pinballs appeared to be decreasing in strength, their detonations becoming lighter with every bounce. 'We were _already_ in trouble!'

'Yeah, for just this one battle, Elora, I'm gonna have to spend the rest of my _life_ with her… and there's a Rhynoc over there, a _Rhynoc_!' Hunter managed to bolt out of the way just before the Rhynoc in question could bowl into him, deep black features spurted into the air as it hit the wall and collapsed in a heap.

'Just focus, Hunter, it doesn't matter right now!' She looked around, trying to locate their friends somewhere in the mess. She had lost count of the number of strange, ghostly creatures attacking them from every direction, and there was no sign of any more Zephyrians or Breeze Builders, but she could still make out Bianca, and Sheila and… _there_. There was Spyro, charging into the room, head lowered, sending several of the ugly creatures flying into the air with a loud squawk. _'Took him long enough to get here.'_

And there not far from Spyro, was Bentley with his club held in both hands… Only now that Elora looked at him, didn't actually seem to be doing much with it. Rather like Hunter had been before, he was staring vaguely off, but in his case, he was looking up at the ceiling and Elora was at a loss to explain why. Or she was, until Zoë grabbed a hold of her ear, forcing her to look up into the air.

'E-Elora!' Zoë squeaked. 'Look!'

Only now did Elora see what everyone else was slowly becoming aware of –the swirling black-and-purple hole opening in the roof of the temple. It was bright, even though its primary colours were purple and black, and seemed to open a tunnel right into the sky and beyond.

Like some kind of portal, Elora thought. A portal, with a violent crackle of electricity around its entrance, gaping through the high temple ceiling and turning the marble all around it deep grey. The sight of it made her shiver, and even the strange, ghostly creatures seemed to falter underneath its dark glare. All around them everyone appeared to be coming to a halt. Hunter was looking up now, too, with Bianca also gawking, close by. Bentley shielded his face with his club, against a light which wasn't there.

'Z-Zoë, do you…?'

'See it? Elora, you can't freakin' _miss_ it.'

And then there was a ball of hot, violet light, hurtling through the open black hole and into the room. It seemed to fall in slow motion at first, as if existing in some distorted time field. Then it sped up rapidly. Whatever it was, it hit the ground with an almighty crack sending chairs and whoever was near enough flying (including Bentley, which really said something about just how hard it'd hit the ground). It felt like a comet had just crashed through the roof.

_'Through a _portal_. That thing _must_ be a portal, but… but what in the name of all _Avalar_…' _

She didn't have much time to ponder on it. The orbs of light which had followed the creature through the ceiling seemed to come together as they hit the ground, and form into yet more bizarre creatures, who at first seemed to be made out of pure, purple liquid, but quickly congealed into something more solid. Elora saw shaggy fur forming on their backs and stone axes in their hands. As soon as they had mouths, they started shrieking loudly, like the monkeys in the desert. Within seconds they were leaping into the crowd and glancing around in alarm and confusion. Then, after surveying their new environment they, too, began to attack, lashing out at everything in their paths.

_'_More_ of them? Not _again_! What do they _want_?' _It was getting difficult to tell one bad guy from another. Elora glanced upwards at the ceiling. Then staggered as she realised the portal had disappeared, as if it had never truly been there. _'A least there won't be anything else coming through…'_

By now, the entire troop of ghostly Rhynocs scattered into the isles in what seemed to be panic. A few of them made a break for the door. Elora however, remained frozen to the spot in amazement, and then the next thing she knew there was something gripping the sleeve of her shirt, pulling her across the room before the webs of purple light could touch her.

'Elora!' Bianca snapped, sounding more annoyed than actually afraid, and amazingly rebellious, standing there in a knee-length dress and with magic pulsing in the fingertips of her free hand. 'What the _heck_ is going on here?'

Elora didn't have an answer ready for her.

Which, for Elora, was a pretty new experience.

* * *

They really, _really_ should've done this in a field.

Spyro, much like everyone else, had stopped dead in his tracks as the massive comet or explosive or whatever the heck it had been seemed to crash down on them through a portal in the roof. The entire room shook like an earthquake and Spyro struggled to keep his footing. He made a move to step towards it and glance down into the newly formed hole in the floor…

…And then something hard and sharp seemed to bite down on his left wing and _yank_. '_Ow_!'

Spyro glanced around to see what it was, and realised that the sharp biting feeling in his wing had been caused by the hand of a withered, aged fairy, who was now gripping onto him determinedly and pulling him back behind a stack of scattered chairs with far more strength than was probably natural in a creature her size (and from the looks of it, age). 'Hey! Hey what the –ulk! Lady, what the—?'

'Idiot!' The fairy snapped. 'Get down, boy, before you lose those wings of yours! Don't'cha know not to go near the hole left behind after a magical explosion that size? There could be anything in there!'

'I… _what_?'

'You heard me! Keep yourself low already, what'cha trying to do out there? Get yourself kablooey'd? You never seen a battle before or something?' She seemed to gaze at him more closely, her old face leaning in very close to his. Her grey hair was pulled up into a tight bun and she looked very much like she had dressed for the occasion in the same kind of yellow garb Zoë had chosen. '…Ah. Sure ya have. You're that Spyro kid, aren't ya? My boy talks about you all the time. Always said you were an impulsive little mite.'

'Um. Sure he does… I mean _did_. I mean…' Spyro cut off, deciding not to ask who "her boy" was. 'Look… yeah, I've seen a few battles… I'm _seeing_ one right now as a matter of—' A Rhynoc flew past both of their heads on the end of one of Bianca's projectile bombs of energy, letting out a snorting cry as it hurtled past. '—Fact, and you know right now, I'm wasting time when I should be _fighting back_, I meanwhat're we gonna do? Just sit here until they go away?'

'Well, it might be good to keep a lid on it, is all I'm saying,' the fairy shrugged, sparks emanating from the tip of her wand.

Spyro glowered. 'Come _on_, I can already handle the _end of the world_, lady; I think I can deal with a few Rhynocs-gone-insane.'

What she did next surprised Spyro more than anything else which had happened to date. The fairy gave him a long, dry stare, lifted her wand hand, and then, almost faster than Spyro could see it, thwaped him about the back of the head. It wasn't an especially _hard_ swipe. More like the kind you'd give an unruly hatchling to make them behave, but it made Spyro flinch more than being struck by Ripto's sceptre ever had.

'Hey, ow!'

'Aw, pipe down already, kid, I was doing stuff like this before you were even crackin' the shell. Got any magic?'

Spyro blinked, still staring at the fairy in surprise while an equally bewildered Sparx muttered in his ear. 'Um… I… No?'

The fairy sniffed disdainfully. 'Tough break. Big hero like you're supposed to be and you're tellin' me ya don't even have any magic?' She reared up and fired a volley of small bolts of magical energy from the tip of her wand before ducking straight back down again. She must have hit something because Spyro heard whatever it was shriek and fall to the ground with a thud. 'That's no good to anyone here. Ya must have _something_!'

'Um… I breathe fire?'

_'Breathing fire_? Phaf! How _fantastic_, that is! That's kiddies stuff, dragon, don't tell me that's all you can do. How'd you ever beat all the people you's supposed to have? All the great evils an' forces of darkness an' crazy dictators? Did y'just run into em or knock em off of cliffs or something?'

'Well, uh… actually…'

'Ach, never mind!' The fairy pushed herself up, and Spyro waited until she'd finishing firing another half a dozen bolts of lightning over the wall before he answered her. '.I… you… look, lady, I've faced these guys like a hundred times; I _think_ I know what I'm do—'

'That's _Miss_, to you, boy! The fairy snapped and Spyro flinched, not eager to receive another knock around the head. 'Miss Agathie Cristlewand. And _those_ are what we like to call famous last words!'

'Lady, look I appreciate tha… did you say Agathie?'

Oh, Great Ancestors. So _that_ was who this was.

The fairy rolled her eyes, the expression sour in her withered old face. 'No, I said Constance… course I said _Agathie_, boy! Which other fairies do you see here?'

'Well there's Zoë over th—'

'Never mind, already! Jeeze, kid doesn't even know a rhetorical question when he hears it!' Agathie slapped her forehead with a thin hand.

'A-alright fine,' Spyro sighed, feeling a jet of something that felt like fire skimming close to the crest of his head. 'Do you have any ideas what these things are?'

'No idea! Seem like Rhynocs… in a way. Typical. You know those creatures, boy. Damn things wouldn't stop comin' for ya if ya magically glued their feet to the floor. Looks to me like the dead ones is coming back to haunt us.'

Spyro looked at her. 'Glue their feet to the floor? Can you do that?'

'Not really my speciality, kid. I don't figure it'd work on ghosts anyways.'

'But… but if these were real ghosts then we couldn't hit them at all,' Spyro said, rapidly losing his patience. 'But we _can_, I _did_, and that means they aren't ghosts right?'

'Heh. Shows what you know.'

Spyro grit his teeth. It probably wouldn't be a good idea to upset anyone Hunter considered a relative. 'Look all that matters now is that we get _rid of them_ before they wreck the place!' _This is supposed to be a wedding_, Spyro thought, and felt the pit drop out of his stomach.

'So use that dragon brain of you and think, boy!' Agathie snapped. 'In case you hadn't noticed, we're not exactly holding em' off here and this wands only got so much energy, I forgot to charge the darn thing up this morning.'

Spyro glanced at Sparx. When they'd entered the room, he had been glowing his usual, vibrant gold colour. Now that gold had faded to blue, so Spyro must have been hit, he knew, though he wasn't entirely certain when or what by. Sometimes, the only way he could be sure he had even been _hurt_ was to look at Sparx and see what colour the dragonfly was.

He had _no_ idea what to do about the apes. There were less of them that there were Rhynoc-ghosts, but they seemed a lot crazier and more violent than any Rhynoc could ever be. Their faces were covered by thick, purple gauze, but their eyes gleamed as they slashed at everything around them with their paws and pickaxes. Spyro caught a glimpse of Hunter ducking from one on the other side of the room, causing it to crash into a wall. That looked like it was most successful method for taking them out: just dodge around them and let them run into something.

Spyro stared into the crowded room. He could see small flickers of multicoloured energy which were probably coming from Bianca, striking the monsters down one by one, and that was probably shield kicking another one right through a window. But for every one that he attacked, another two Rhynoc seemed to appear in its place. They had to be coming from _somewhere_.

Or _something_.

Yeah… _something_. Like in Enchanted towers, where every time you took away a ball of molten rock from the lava pits, another one would be spat out.

Spyro's eyes fell on something sitting underneath a nearby chair. His first thought was that one of the guests must have left it behind in the chaos. Except it didn't look much like a wedding present somebody or anything. It looked more like one of the flasks you'd find in the professors laboratories, and its surface seems to gleam with black light…

Some kind of curse, maybe?

Spyro ducked back behind the chair, fixed his eyes on Agathie, and, in the firmest voice he could manage, said: 'Look, I think I know what's causing this; I have to get out there and take that one out! You can… I mean… um…' he hesitated at the expectant glare in her eyes. 'Can you cover me? I'm gonna make a run for it.'

Agathie Cristlewand smacked her free hand against her forehead. A mess of deep blue embers burst from her wand and very nearly set light to Sparx's wings. 'Oh, holy fairysmoke, kid! Don't tell me _that's_ the best thing ya can think come up with? Just run out there an' _blow em' up_?! Don't cal l myself much of an expert kid, but is that really what you call a good way to save the world? Or a _wedding_, for that matter!'

'Well if you've got a better idea, La— Miss Chrislewand…' _Holy ancestors, how did Hunter ever _survive_ around this lady? _'Then go ahead and say because right now, I'm running on empty!'

Agathie Christlewand sniffed, blew a trail of smoke away from the tip of her wand and shrugged as if they were talking about something perfectly ordinary, like hatching a dragon egg or taking a balloon ride. 'Dragons and their tough talk… always thinking they know best. You'll get your comeuppance one day, boy. Still… I reckon we can trust you, you being who you are. What the heck, kid, have a ball. Kick some Rhynoc behind, will ya?'

'Um… yeah. with pleasure, Miss Cristlewand.'

He actually found himself drawing a deep breath before charging back into the isles and making a beeline for the flask.

* * *

_He's seen a lot of weird things in his life. _

_He remembers his early days in the swamps, getting used to the feeling of water around his feet because he couldn't just hover over it the way his older brother did. _

_Older, they said, but only _just_, if his mother's estimates were anything to go by. (They usually were. Mom was accurate like that.) Spyro and Sparx had been born on the same day, virtually minutes apart. Spyro had lived a huge part of his life believing he was something he wasn't, or at least, not caring what he was either way so long as he was theirs. _

_He had been born a dragonfly: their son. And now he was a dragon. He'd changed species and destiny in less time that it takes to tell a life story. He'd breathed fire, ice, lightning and the energy of earth itself. He'd seen monsters, dark portals, evil dragons, good ones, old heroes, furies, apes, Dreadwings and the strange, misty creatures of Convexity. He'd saved the world once, and watched a dark prison collapsing in on itself. _

_So yeah, Spyro has seen a lot of strange things. He's felt a lot of strange things, too, from the first breath of a spirit gem to the feeling of wing beneath his wings to the painful sensation of a magical shockwave eating into his skin. _

_But he's never seen anything like this. He'd never _felt_ anything like this. _

_The portal seems to cling to him as it retreats, its texture burning into his skin. He knows he must've hit the grounds pretty hard – his back still feels like he's just come out of a ten mile plummet. Which, now that he thinks about it, he probably has. Just how far did the portal take him? a long way. Maybe miles… maybe more. _

_He can still feel Sparx tugging his wing but… he seems to be pulling away a lot, as if Spyro's skin is too hot to touch. Maybe it is. Everything is burning, and he thinks he can hear the apes crying out, screaming loudly, as they had been before. The voices which had been yelling insults before were gone and replaced with the sounds of all out battle. He's lost all track of what's happening again. There's nothing solid left to cling onto, but he has to find something or else he might explode. _

_'_The ground_,' a voice inside of him orders. '_Focus on the ground, cling onto that. It's solid enough, even if nothing else is, right?_' _

_So he does. He focuses on the rubble beneath him, channels all the earth-powers Terrador ever taught him into keeping himself attached to the ground. Eventually, things stop shaking so badly. His skin stops feeling as if it's on fire, and Sparx stops flitting back and fourth. _

_It's only now that Spyro realises what he can see while solid and alert isn't much better than what was in the portal. It really _is_ a battle out here…

* * *

_


	5. The Worst Wedding Ever

**Hopefully I'm finally grasping the concept of a decently sized chapter... or maybe not. At least I got everything out that I wanted to in a vaguely reasonably time slot. **

**And finally! Something actually HAPPENS in this chapter which can be considered plot-advancement. I hope you enjoy. ****Standard disclaimers apply.**

* * *

Chapter Five: The Worst Wedding Ever. 

As soon as she had dragged Elora out of the view of the attacking monsters Bianca jumped right back into the fight and was currently knocking down attacking apes with firebombs and actually almost seemed to be enjoying herself.

Which was more than Elora could say for everyone else. She had lost track of Spyro in the chaos, but she guessed that the row of apes being hurtled upwards into the air one after the other on the other side of the room was something to do with him. Hunter for the most part, had apparently mastered the fine art of dodging-to-the-side-and-letting-the-guy-trying-to-attack-you-run-into-the-wall, and the apes clearly weren't catching onto this strategy. Most of the magical pinball's appeared to have fizzled out by now, which was just as well, because it would've been a lot harder to see them coming, with the massive amounts of smoke being thrown up from the newly formed hole in the floor.

There was no sign of the Breeze Builders or the Zephyrian's –It was likely that they had made themselves scarce as soon as Spyro arrived on the scene. That was, if the apes hadn't scared them off already– but there were still plenty of those scary monkey-like creatures running around and lashing out at everything which got in their way. Like the Rhynoc ghosts who had appeared before them, Elora had given up on trying to keep track of the apes. The Rhynoc ghosts too, were still intent on smashing everything they could lay their hands on.

They also appeared to have developed another very disturbing ability – everything they touched was crumbling. Elora watched as one of them wrapped itself, sheet-like around a chair and melted it, first into a gooey black mess, and then into an acrid grey smoke. Hunter's strategy nearly failed when _two_ apes tried to attack him at once, and it was only the fact that Elora had been fast enough to pull him out of the way of the other one (thus sending the two apes crashing into each _other_ instead) which saved him.

'Urgh… thanks.'

'You're welcome. You know, you probably should've brought your bow.'

'Sorry but I kinda wasn't expecting to need it at a _wedding_!' Hunter muttered irritably, standing upright and brushing himself off. Elora thought, uneasily, that there really wasn't much point to that anymore.

'Um… Hunter, your _clothes_.'

'I _know_,' Hunter groaned, glancing at the now rather ragged looking tunic which was now so ripped and holey that it looked as if Hunter had loaned it to a Bentley. 'And I'm guessing we're not gonna get any refunds on the hall booking… wait, Bianca!'

'She's there, look.'

'No, just _tell_ me where she is! I've already seen her once!'

Elora sighed and glanced over to where Bianca was fending off a couple of angry looking apes and a Rhynoc ghost, sparks of pink energy flitting from her fingertips. Her dress looked worse for wear, but the person under it was very much in her element.

'I think she's handling herself just fine, and honestly, Hunter, this is a silly superstition.'

'Oh, really? As silly as a _comet_ flying at us through the roof and bringing… maniac killer attacking apes?!' Hunter growled.

'…Oh-kay, point taken.' Elora paused, her stomach curdling as she glanced back into the wrecked remains of the hall. She honestly had no idea what any of the monsters thought they were doing. There as nothing much left to attack or destroy, and Spyro, Bianca, Bentley, Sheila and Agent Nine (who had recovered his laser gun and was now blasting it merrily all around the room) were making very fast work of them. 'We really need to get out of here, and fast! I don't know how to stop these things!'

'What, run?' Hunter blinked. 'Um… look as cool as I am with the idea of getting away from the scary ape-and-ghost things… we kinda need this hall. I'm supposed to be getting married here, right?'

'Hey, something tells me the wedding has just been cancelled, spots!' Agent Nine shrieked almost merrily as he blasted several ghosts in the behinds as they attempted to run. 'Negated, annulled, better-luck-next-year an' all that!'

'But…' Hunter swallowed, and Elora felt a pang in her stomach which was nothing to do with fear or anger. 'Hunter I'm sorry, but he's right, we have to get _out_ of here.'

'Elora!' Zoë swallowed, simultaneously blasting an ape in the eyes with a jolt from her wand as she spoke 'Not that I _want_ to break up the Plan for Evac, but um… you might wanna look at this…'

Elora followed Zoë's gaze through the eye-watering smoke. Something was forming in the gaping pit where the thing-from-the-portal had landed. It was _moving_. Struggling, like something trying to clamber out of a bog, and as Elora watched, she thought she saw small bursts of greenish flame, lancing out of the purple glare.

'What… what in the…'

Whatever it was, it was _alive_. Elora gawked as it staggered to its feet, all thoughts of the battle around her forgotten. It was little more than a glowing, purple outline barely visible amongst the smoke and haze. A familiar shape… a _four legged _shape. The air tasted like cold ice and sulphur and a thousand other toxic things which made Elora want to gag. Whatever the creature was, it was hurting badly. She could almost _sense_ the pain it was in.

'Z-Zoë what in the world…?'

'Don't ask me!' Zoë squeaked. '_I_ was asking you!'

* * *

Spyro had been so surprised by the massive hole appearing in the floor that he momentarily forgot he was trying to pull of a strategic manoeuvre in the middle of a battle, and just stood there for several long moment, staring at it (or rather, staring at what he could actually _see_ of it through the smoke). The hole had taken up a good quarter of the room, but the portal in the roof had seemingly vanished altogether. 

'**Oh, **_**brilliant**_**,' Sparx buzzed in his head. 'No way are we getting a refund on this place.' **

It was only Agathie's irritated cry ("hoi! Get with it already, ya long tailed lizard, you're supposed to be destroyin' the bad guys here!") which brought Spyro back to his senses. He had to skirt around the newly formed hole in the floor, practically invisible through the smoke.

'**Spyro, I…'**

'**Not now, Sparx!' **Spyro thought back, slashing at an incoming Rhynoc (or whatever it was) with his tail.** 'I need you to focus on getting us through this!' **

'**But Spyro—!' **

Whatever Sparx wanted, it would have to wait. Spyro knew he _had_ to get to the problem quickly.

…Wherever it was.

'**Sparx, I can't see the bottle anymore! Where is it?'**

'**To your right then, straight ahead, I can feel its magic through the smoke! But Spyro you really should **_**listen**_**, I think there's something in—!' **

Spyro didn't listen, so he didn't know what Sparx said next. He was too busy running through whatever was in his way –probably a ghost, then an ape, then another ape. But the third one managed to grab him by a horn and the next thing Spyro knew he was behind thrown upwards and slammed into the nearest wall. He pulled his wings in just soon enough to avoid their bones breaking, but not enough to keep it from hurting or to keep the air from being forced out of his lungs. 'Ow, _ow_!'

Luckily for him, the creature let go as soon as he'd done that and gave Spyro a chance to breathe out – a burst of fire right into it's face. It fell backwards howling in pain, while Spyro staggered back to his feet and raced around the beast. He heard a clatter and felt something ripping at the decorations on his wings, pulling them away.

'**You really should be more careful you know, those things are priceless ornaments.' **

'**Ouch… Sparx, what did I just say about "not now"?!' **

Pulling away, Spyro dodged between two more of the creatures, not bothering to stop and work out exactly what they were. He had no idea where they had all come from (he could've sworn there hadn't been _this_ many a moment ago) and he didn't care. The bottle was what mattered. The smoke was clearing up a bit, but his eyes were stinging from it's effects, and there was still enough hovering at ground level to keep him from seeing clearly through the mess. He knew his friends were fighting but he couldn't see them anymore.

' "_Simple enough job_", Hunter says…' he muttered, as he jolted another creature away on his horns, finding it to b a lot harder to shove and attack than he'd been expecting it to be. '…"_Just hand over the freakin' torc, there's nothing else for you to worry about_" he says… Urgh! Why can't we ever do these things without Rhynocs showing up?'

'**Spyro, you're going **_**left**_**, not right!'**

'**Sorry, it's hard to keep track!'**

'**Look, it's there!'**

'**Where?!'**

'**Under that char, right to your left, there!' **

Spyro grit his teeth and shoved several chairs unceremoniously out of the way to expose the bubbling jar of black liquid beneath.

He had been right –it definitely wasn't a wedding present, unless it was another weird Avalarian tradition to give the happy couple jars of pulsing, magical, black tar. A small hole had been pierced through the cork and the glass was leaking energy across the room. As Spyro watches, several slivers of energy crawled out of it and away across the floor where it then began to bubble and gurgle and _grow_, slowly expanding into a living (or maybe not) form.

Sparx's face seemed to wrinkle in disgust**. 'Oh… yuck!' **

'**Yeah… no prizes for guessing what **_**that's**_** going to turn into.** **Sparx, can you contain that power?' **Spyro asked the question but he already knew what the answer was going to be. Sparx had enough magical energy to safely contain power as great as that of talismans, but this thing felt even greater than that. More than any dragonfly could handle.

'**Too much spunk, I can't touch it.'**

'Fine,' Spyro huffed, 'then we'll do this the old fashioned way!' he lifted his front paws, rose up on two legs and prepared to smash the curdling magical object between his feet…

…And that was when something large and heavy fell on him from above and nearly crushed him against the carpet.

* * *

One thing was for sure; she wouldn't be wearing _this_ dress to get married in now. 

The creatures had ripped half of it to pieces. They'd been worked up enough already, and seeing a portal in the roof, glowing in a blaze of purple light was just the last straw. Bianca was starting to think that her dress had been made of something far more delicate than just fairy-silk, judging by how easily it ripped and tore. Or maybe the apes' claws were just made of something very hard and strong.

Bianca selected her quickest magics, opting for firebombs and basic rainbow bursts which could be fired without having to recite an incantation first. They seemed to work well enough, though it often took several shots for the apes to go down. When they did eventually fall to the ground, they crumbled away into the jewels which now littered the floor, the way that Gnorcs or the sorceress's home-made minions would.

From her position near the alter, Bianca was at a slightly higher vantage point than everyone else, and could see the entirety of the utter mess all around them. She saw Spyro being slammed into the floor across the room, but wasn't in the right position to go and help him. Or Sheila, or Bentley or Agent Nine, or Hunter or…

'_Oh darn it; I'm not supposed to be looking at him!'_

She turned away quickly and focused on the two strange apes currently screeching at her at the bottom of the step. Damn the professor for filling her up with all these silly Avalarian superstitions. She really hoped he was wrong about it being bad luck to see your future partner before the ceremony started.

She had to admit, giant balls of purple fire falling through the roof at you probably wasn't the best of portents.

It was as she was drawing back and running hot liquid-magic between her fingertips to form into a new fireball that she saw it: Something had emerged from the pit –small and glistening like a polished gem. Bianca paused for a moment, even in the middle of the fight to watch it as it flitted upwards out of the pit. It shot around the room for several seconds, like a blinded moth, then it hurtled in Bianca's direction.

Without thinking, Bianca reached out a hand and grabbed it, the way she used to catch firebugs as a child. But when she tried to cup it carefully between her fingers the way she used to cup the bugs, she discovered it was too _big_ to be one, and it squirmed against her hold. She had to grip its middle tightly and watch, confused, as a form and figure became visible amidst the familiar golden gleam.

And then a voice.

'Whoa, whoa, hold it there, stop!'

It was… _talking_ to her.

'Wait! I'm not joking! We can come to some arrangement here, don't eat me! I'm all cholesterol and, and… oh.'

Whatever it was, it was looking her right in the eyes now, and wasn't glowing half as strongly as it had been before. She could make out its face and its petrified expression made her loosen her grip a little. 'Uh, okay so you're not a… in fact you're a… I… I have no idea what the hell you are, but you're not gonna eat me, right?'

Bianca blinked a few times. 'Um… no?'

'Oh… good. Yeah, that's cool.'

'You… you're a dragonfly?' Bianca said, and suddenly realised just why the creature's strange golden glow was so familiar. It wasn't like the firebugs in her memory after all, but like Spyro's insect guard, Sparx. If apparently more talkative.

'Yeah, nice deduction, good for you, um… if you're not gonna eat me then could you get _off_ me?'

Bianca blinked and let the creature go without thinking. It flickered back into the air, seemed to brush off it's wings, and actually –she could barely believe it, but…– seemed almost to _wink_ at her. 'Yeah, thanks, thanks a lot, good-looking, it's appreciated, nice _dress_ by the way, excuse me.'

And with that, the golden glimmer bolted away from her and headed back towards the hole in the floor.

'Hey, _wait_! You shouldn't go back there!' Almost on instinct, Bianca followed it. She knew it must've come out of the ceiling just like everything see. It _had_ to have. But why was it running _back_ towards the hole in the floor? The magical energies were probably still running rampant all around it. She literally kicked an ape out of the way as it tried to stop her and, as she grewnearer, she discovered that Elora and Hunter were already there, and staring down into it in amazement.

But before Bianca could get close enough to see exactly what it was that they were finding so interesting, the dragonfly shot back up out of the newly formed crater in the floor and flew back towards her with a cry of alarm, on the other side of the crater Hunter, Elora and Zoë bolted back a little bit themselves. Bianca caught Hunter's eye across the distance but this time, neither of them looked away. She could almost hear what he was thinking:

'_Magic?' _

'_Magic.'_ Bianca thought back silently. _'And not necessarily a good type.'_

'Hey, hey back off people, move it! The dragonfly was now yelling, clearly surprising them all by talking in clear English. 'Outta the way, all women, children and cowards first!'

Bianca reached out to grab him again as he passed. 'Wait! What's going on?'

'You don't wanna _know. _When that guy blows, he _really_ blowstrust me, I'm his brother and even _I _don't want get too close toooooohboythisisn'tgood!'

He tried to pull out of her hand, but even as she released him, Bianca felt the grounds tremble. Not trembling as if in an earthquake, however, but trembling as if a gust of wind were powerful enough to move the earth.

It felt as if someone were displacing gravity, changing the weight of everything in the room. One minute Bianca felt as light as a feather, and the next as heavy as a piece of bedrock. The dragonfly grabbed her ear and, with surprising strength, pulled her around and down.

There was another sound, this time more like that of a volcano exploding, so loudly that she felt it before she heard it. So powerful that it ripped right through her. The colour of the glowing pit changed from purple to bright, vibrant green, and then, the very room exploded. Time stood still.

* * *

"Think with the earth," _Terrador had always tells him. And that's exactly what Spyro does. _

_At first he merely used his earth powers to help him reacquaint himself with solid earth. To help him thing about where he was and what was happening and to… to _ground_ himself in reality again. But now the power continues to grow inside of him and refuses to die down, until it's almost as painful as the searing wound in his chest. _

_There is a battle all around him. But now, the people who are fighting are _stopping_. Pausing and looking down at him in panic and confusion. He hopes he doesn't hurt any of them when he does this. He _hopes_…_

…_No more time for thinking. The power of the fury rises up inside of him and expands outwards. _

_His Fury attacks always feel this way, regardless of which element he uses –endless and hot and _terrifyingly_ powerful, like the end of the world itself is coming out of his body. Maybe it is. He can never quite be sure. All he _can_ be sure of is the magic bundling, growing in his veins and then, being unleashes. He realises now, that coming through the portal must have caused a huge build up of his magical powers inside of him. There is only one way to expel all of that energy, so Spyro grits his teeth against the pain, forces himself to his feet and exhales all the energy in his body in one, single solid blast. _

_He figures that this one will destroy just about everything in its path which isn't smart enough to duck and maybe even some thing's which are. maybe this one will even kill him, in the state that he's in, but if he _doesn't _do it, then he'll probably die anyway and…_

_And that's too scary to think about, so he doesn't think. He just focuses upon the Fury. He focuses on the blooming power in his veins. _

_He can almost hear the Chronicler speaking, as Spyro unshackles the power of earth.

* * *

_

The first thing Bianca was aware of was the sound of a voice muttering something about 'a prodigiously unwonted occurrence' (that would be Bentley, then). The next thing she knew, she was lying on her back, looking upwards at the ceiling. A soft golden light was flickering just above her left ear, which turned out to be the same dragonfly from before. The walls around and above her were glistening with a bright, green glow which was slowly fading away.

It was only now that Bianca realised she had just narrowly avoided being torn apart by a powerful magical energy wave (an _Earth Shaker_, or a _Gravity Bind_, or some other similar and incredibly intense energy) and she wasn't even sure _how_. It had been years since she'd even met anyone with the ability to create such a powerful magical attack, and they couldn't be created artificially.

Bianca lay perfectly still for a moment, getting used to the returned stillness beneath her and trying to work out just what was happening. In that time, someone quite literally hopped over to her and gave her a nudge.

'Hey, Bianca, you alright, mate?' that was Sheila. Bianca supposed she should've guessed, what with the _hopping_ and all. Bianca opened her mouth to talk, but was surprised when her voice came out sounding much quieter and croakier than she had intended it to.

'W-where's Hunter?'

'Picking himself up, like the rest of us. I think everyone's okay but…' Sheila shook her head in bewilderment. '…_Gee_.'

Sheila's statement was well put.

The air was suddenly filled with what at first appeared to be leaves and twigs, but as Bianca sat up, and they began to blow into her face, she realised that they _weren't_ really leaves at all –they were just little flickers of energy which were taking on the _shapes_ of leaves. They whirled and swept around the room in a surprisingly gentle gust of wind.

On the other side of the room, Elora and Zoë were staggering to their feet. Bentley (who was somehow still standing anyway) was gazing in confusion at the broken stump that remained of the ice club he has been using moments ago. Agent Nine was leaning casually against a column and blowing smoke from his laser gun, not seeming particularly phased by whatever it was that had just blown them all upwards, and Spyro was gazing in confusion at the smashed remains of what appeared to be a small, black bottle by his feet, his own dragonfly, Sparx, buzzing about his head as usual –he was a dim green in colour as opposed to his usual gold. The Rhynoc ghosts, the wild apes… all of them had disappeared.

The professor arrived late, shoving open a doorway and stopping dead the moment he saw the chaos, not even bothering to _look_ at Agent Nine when he bounded over. 'Heeey professor,' he grinned, still waving his laser gun around in a slightly dangerous fashion, 'little late for the party, aren'tcha? We already cleaned out the joint!'

The professor sighed, removing his glasses and cleaning them, as if he thought that when he put them back on, the room wouldn't appear to be quite as big a war zone as it had before. 'Agent Nine, given what your usual idea of a "party" is, I'm actually rather glad that I did. Elora, what in the name of heaven is going on in here? Elora?'

Elora didn't answer. She had _heard_ him, but Bianca supposed that she was having trouble responding. She was far more preoccupied with staring at the staggering figure in the pit, which had previously been glowing purple and was now tinged with a deep green.

Bianca noticed Hunter was missing just before she felt him take hold of her arm.

'Hey there, I… I know I'm kinda not meant to do this right now, but… you okay?'

'Oh, to heck with the professor's superstitions.' Bianca turned to Hunter and squeezed his hand. Then decided that wasn't worth it and opted for the all-out hug, surprising herself by how much she actually needed it. 'Pardon me for not saying "I do".'

'It's cool. we can just blame Elora.'

'I _heard_ that,' Elora muttered, and Bianca managed another smile as she pulled out of the hug, before the dragonfly shot past her shoulder, yelling, 'oh, holy crying out loud _heck_ not _now_, you idiot, you totally shouldn't have done that _now_!' She missed the continuation of this scream of words as the Dragonfly vanished into the pit and both she and Hunter found themselves running closer to the edge than either of them would've liked to be. Funny thing was, now everyone else was doing the same, Sheila and Bentley and Elora and Zoë, all of them, advancing cautiously towards the gaping pit.

Bianca could still hear the dragonfly talking, and apparently, now so could everyone else.

'…Okay, does that hurt as much as it _looks_ like it does? Seriously, if _that_ hurts as much as it looks like then… then the _hell_, are you _insane_?! You just _Furied_. You—_this_ is why we don't go to nice places!'

Fear, Bianca noted. There was fear in that voice, but hidden beneath a layer of humour. The type of feigned comedy she was more used to seeing from Agent Nine. She actually squeezed Hunter's hand a little tighter before letting go again and stepping closer.

If he was afraid, then they had to help him. If the thing that fell from the roof was hurt, they had to do something about it.

'Okay, _not_ the passing out thing, this isn't the… this isn't that, is it? Come on, you are _not_ doing this to me now. Not now, c'mon, Spyro, pull yourself together, you're freaking me out!'

The name.

The name was what got her. Bianca lurched.

In fact, everyone did. Particularly the purple dragon standing on the other side of the pit. The dragonfly wasn't talking to _him_. Spyro glanced at Elora in confusion but the faun didn't look back.

'Blimey,' Sheila gaped and, once again, her one word statement pretty much summed up the feeling's of every person in the room. Even Agent Nine's eyes were flitting back and fourth between Spyro, and the thing in bottom of the pit, in the first sign of disturbed bewilderment they had seen in him all day.

Bianca blinked hard, telling herself she was imagining it. But of course, she wasn't, and when she looked down into the crater, the same creature was lying there amongst the smoke that had been there a moment earlier. Only now it was clearly visible and not hidden by smoke and the strange, green glare of magic and energy-leaves. Nonetheless, it still glowed faintly with green as it stumbled and fell to the ground.

Damn it, it's not that, it's that freakin'… why the hell did you just… look you Furied all over the guests, man! Including the cute one in the dress, seriously, this is not a good introduction!

Small. Purple. Quadruped. Wings. A golden light flitting close to his side in a panicky fashion.

'Did. Did he just say…' Hunter's sentence trailed off. They'd all heard it, and it wasn't as if that particular moniker was in the Dragon Peoples' list of popular names.

A source of the magical energy the likes of which Bianca had never felt before, lying unconscious at the bottom of a crater having just shot through a hole in the ceiling, and its name was Spyro.

* * *


End file.
